Valentine's Day

by Gemini Explorer

The Treehouse women decide to celebrate Valentine's Day. Can they get the men to dress up and think of suitable gifts? Two Zanga girls attend, but Queen Sa'eera causes a stir after having too much rum, leaving Vee vexed with Ned. Can George make chocolate? Marguerite finally cooks!

NOTICE: This Fic is Rated as Mature for scenes involving nudity, intense romantic passion, heartfelt expressions of love and devotion, and limited adult language. As with other Fics, I wish to express thanks for permission from the rights holders to use their characters in my stories, and to thank my readers, especially those who take time to review or who PM me to say how much they enjoy these stories. This one is at the limit of my published erotic content, as perhaps befits a tale told of Valentine's Day. Especially shy or prudish persons should read with caution. But those who have wanted more hot action between M&R and the other Treehouse couples will probably be pleased. This is, like all of my tales, set after the Third Season, and ignores the cancelled Fourth Season. See, "Challenger's Birthday" to learn why George and Finn became romantically involved.

NOTE: When Finn read the lettering on her binocular in this story, Zeiss instruments were indeed made at Jena. After WW II, Jena was in the eastern zone of a divided Germany, occupied by the Soviet Union. Zeiss binoculars continued to be made there, but senior management fled to the western zone and re-established the company in Oberkochen. This is the modern firm now using the Carl Zeiss Optik name. After the reunification of Germany and the departure of Russian forces, a Herr Docter (family name) bought the eastern company and renamed it as Docter Optik. The author has used products from both firms and been impressed. But for the purposes of our story, set when it is, the original Zeiss works was still in Jena and remained so until the end of the worst war in history. The modern day Zeiss remains at the forefront of optical research and products. It has few peers, and their binoculars are warmly recommended. I also regard Leica as being superb and there are other excellent binoculars. I am not compensated by Zeiss, and mention their items so often in Fics largely because of their known excellence and their widespread use by famous explorers in that 1920's time frame, and since.)

Please read and review, hopefully kindly! As ever, I hope this pleases more readers than it doesn't.

"Valentine's Day"

by

Gemini Explorer

Finn was having coffee in the Treehouse with her virtual "sister", Veronica, when she wandered over to the calendar that her lover and future spouse (See, "The Death of Zoth" and, "A Wedding at Avebury"), Prof. George Challenger, had posted on the wall near the kitchen. She ran her finger lightly over the dates in that month, February of 1924.

She stopped at Feb. 14, where Challenger and Veronica (who had helped with the calendar) had written in the notation that it was Valentine's Day. They and Finn had carefully made such little notes throughout the calendar, denoting holidays, including those celebrated only in America, which Ned Malone had insisted on. Veronica, their artist and Ned's lover, had been amused, but humored her man by noting such things as Washington's Birthday and the Fourth of July. Their sometimes caustic companion, Marguerite Krux, had commented on this, reminding Ned of how stalwart British colonists had triumphed over Hessian mercenaries. It was a droll commentary on the Revolution, evading the fact that Great Britain had lost those 13 colonies in that conflict. Miss Krux, British, often teased Malone about his pride in his nation...

"Hey, Vee!" called Finn. "Look here at this date. It's not far off. What do you really know about this Valentine's Day thing? We only mentioned it a little in New Amazonia, mainly when some chick bitched about how she wished we still celebrated it right. Girls used to get candy and flowers and dinner out before that rotten creep Zoth destroyed my civilization. Wouldn't it be great to have a Valentine's Day party here on the Plateau? We could invite Assai and Sa'eera, too. They like learning our customs, and they'd get a kick out of it if we could persuade Jacoba to give Sa'eera a Valentine's Day gift. Wouldn't that be a hoot?" She broke out in laughter at the thought of the usually somewhat dour Zanga chieftain figuring out what to give his wives for this holiday.

Veronica walked over next to Finn. She studied the date with interest and agreed that it would be nice to celebrate what she had read was a romantic occasion.

"I remember my father giving my mother things then, and how sweet it was to see them so happy together. Ned is lucky: my parents taught me what love can be, and I try to be as good to him as my mom was to my dad." She wiped away a tear that dribbled from her right eye as she recalled her beloved parents and how devastated she had been at their loss.

"Hello, ladies. What are you doing, other than drinking coffee, the aroma of which brings me into the kitchen?" Marguerite Krux...

Veronica smiled. "It's a cinch that you don't show up in the kitchen for much else, Marguerite. I thought you told us that you wanted to learn to cook." She lifted an ironic eyebrow, and Marguerite gave her a cool look.

"Well, I do recall saying that, and I'm a woman of my word. Sometimes… But let's not be hasty. I wouldn't want to rush into anything." She smirked. "Is there any of that coffee left? I need a cup. It improves my disposition. You know how that needs improving, so give!" She reached into the cupboard for her favorite cup of fine Wedgwood china, with roses on it. It had a matching saucer. She insisted on this silver-rimmed cup, although the others with whom she dwelt sometimes used tan or green mugs that Veronica made and fired in her kiln. Veronica was a talented artist in several mediums.

"What are we discussing?" queried the new arrival. "Men, or men?" She laughed at her own joke and held out her cup for Finn to pour coffee.

"Actually," Veronica said, "we were discussing Valentine's Day, or were about to."

"Aha!" rejoined Marguerite. "See? What good is Valentine's Day, without a man to do nice things for you on it? So, what about it? Do you think the boys will even remember it?"

"They will if we bring it up and plan a party. And we can drop little hints that something individual on their part would be appreciated."

"No good, Vee. Subtle hints will go right over their heads; they're guys. We need to spell it out for them. But nicely." Finn chuckled, thinking how each of the men in the Treehouse would react to veiled hints about a holiday that they hadn't been celebrating.

"She's right: men are as dense as granite about some things, "Marguerite conceded. "We need to steer them in the right direction, without being boorish or overwhelming. You brought this up, Finn. You're nothing if not plain spoken. How are you going to tell George?"

"Hey! "Finn protested, "Marguerite, we just started thinking about this. I was looking at the calendar and saw the V. Day thingee written in the date space, and we had barely begun to think about it when you barged in, late riser!"

"I prefer to think of my arrival as being fashionably late, "purred her brunette friend. "By the way, what's for breakfast? Is anything cooked?"

"No, it's all gone. We'll help you to make your own breakfast. We'll walk you through it, eggs and all. And watch you like a hawk so that there won't be any need to open all the windows and fan out vast clouds of smoke, like there was a volcano in the kitchen. And if you do what we tell you, what you cook will be edible. You'll have a whole new respect for yourself. You'll be so proud of your new skill that you can hardly wait to show John that you can make him breakfast safely and delectably." Veronica shot her pal a meaningful look, with a smile that said that she had finally trapped Marguerite into learning culinary abilities.

"Why would I wish to make Lord Roxton's breakfast? That would put maids and cooks out of work when we reach Avebury, and I feel for the little people of this world. They need employment!"

"I cook for George," Finn pointed out. "Does that make me a little person? He thinks I stand pretty tall, especially when he puts me on that silly pedestal in our room." She blushed, trying to be sarcastic, but clearly thrilled that Challenger had built the polished wooden pedestal and set her atop it when he was especially proud of her or when her self esteem faltered, as it occasionally did, now that she had realized how untutored she was, compared to her Treehouse companions. But she had learned to read quite well, coached by her mentor, and was rapidly acquiring a veneer of culture that impressed them all.

"You don't count, Finn: you wait on George hand and foot. He must be the most spoiled man in the world." Marguerite was determined to steer the conversation away from the dreaded stove in the kitchen.

"Well, he deserves to be the most spoiled man in the world. He's MY man, and if you knew what he means to me, you wouldn't razz me about the way that I treat him. He saved me from the hellhole of New Amazonia and taught me to read and listens to my darkest secrets and most bitter memories, and tells me that I'll be all right, and even makes me believe it. But if you knew how female and warm inside it could make you feel if you were able to cook for John and see what it would mean to him, you'd run to that kitchen and beg us to teach you to cook."

"See?" muttered Marguerite. "What did I tell you, Finn? You definitely say what you think. Ah, well, I suppose that I had better learn."

"Yeah, Marguerite, you may never get off of this Plateau and have oodles and scads of servants in Avebury," noted Veronica.

They were interrupted by the tread of boots on the stairwell leading up from the lab, and George Challenger walked over to the table.

"Morning, ladies," he said, "I got up so early to get some things done in the lab that I haven't eaten, and I got carried away, and am famished. Has everyone eaten?"

"No, George," said Veronica. "We were about to, and Marguerite is going to learn to cook!" She looked at the brunette member of their number and smiled triumphantly.

"Oh, really!" said an impressed Challenger. "When, pray?"

"Very funny, George," mumbled Marguerite. "Your beloved and her "almost sister" have dragooned me into cooking. Today. Now. Want to be my test case?"

"Cool it, Marguerite," said Finn. "Let me make George's breakfast, and while he eats, Vee and I will help you."

She pulled out Challenger's favorite chair and told him to sit, and she would get his breakfast. "We're making more coffee, anyway. That new drip coffee maker that you came up with is just perfect. It's so easy to use that even Marguerite can learn to work it." She snickered, and the Krux lass stuck out her tongue at Finn in return. Veronica hid a laugh of her own and turned toward the kitchen.

Challenger suddenly registered how Finn and Marguerite were dressed and blushed. "Darling, I really wish that you wouldn't wander out of our room in your underwear unless we are alone in the Treehouse. And, Marguerite, does John realize that you are down here in that abbreviated silk dressing gown? It is lovely, but rather, ah, intimate, for this portion of the Treehouse, surely?"

Marguerite shrugged. "I really didn't think that I'd find anyone here but these blonde bimbos. It's not like Finn and I haven't seen every inch of one another, thanks to the late Avery Burton and his nasty little slave school." (See the Fic, "A Night in the Lost World.") "And Veronica and we go skinny dipping every month, sometimes more often. I can tell you, Ned is a lucky fellow. Our hostess is quite the belle of the ball. But I apologize. I should have realized that you might still be here, in that lab where you live half of your life."

"Genius, I'm really sorry, "stammered Finn."But you were the only guy left here, and like Marguerite says, we girls haven't got much left that we haven't all seen. Anyway, I was just going to duck in here and grab some coffee and go back up to our room, but Vee was here, and we got to talking, then Marguerite came in and..." Her voice trailed off and she blushed. "I guess that I had better go dress."

"Oh, no, you don't," said Veronica. "I need help in the kitchen. Once you get George's meal in front of him, we need to deal firmly with Marguerite before she makes up an excuse to evade the stove yet again. You can dress in a few minutes. George, we're practically family, and the other men are gone, so it isn't like she's teasing the animals at the zoo. I'm sure that you won't mind looking at her for awhile. It isn't every man who gets breakfast served to him by a beautiful blonde in her bra and panties. See? She's even brushed her hair." And she laughed.

"Yeah," said Finn sheepishly. "I did clean up a little and brush my hair. I was going to bring breakfast to you in the lab after I'd had that cup of coffee."

"Did you say that the other men are gone?" mused Challenger. "Gone where?"

"Ned and John went to gather some Novaculite to make new hones for our knives and axes. John wants a rounded stone for the axes, especially. And they're going fishing on the way back from the quarry, so they'll be maybe three hours. They're not going to see Finn in her present state of undress. Or, Marguerite's lacy little black robe, for that matter. Relax and let us feed you, and we need to talk."

"We need to talk?! "Challenger blustered."I am not the one down here in my unmentionables. What have I been called on the carpet for?"

"Relax, Genius," laughed his woman, "It isn't bad every time a woman says we need to talk. This is just about Valentine's Day."

"What about it? I've done nothing to it. It's still there. I remember you writing it in the space by the day, the fourteenth, when I compiled the calendar."

"Well, you haven't done much else about it, " Veronica noted, "and we want to this year. We, the Social Committee of the Treehouse Women, have decreed that this year, we will celebrate Valentine's Day properly."

"We have?" said a rather surprised Marguerite. Finn snickered again, but she, too, was surprised that Veronica had taken the bit in her teeth and was moving forward aggressively.

"Cool!" she declared, and she raised her right arm and she and Veronica slapped hands.

"You go, girls!" said an amused Marguerite, using a line that she had heard Finn employ. But the idea of Valentine's Day did seem rather nice. Maybe Roxton could be prompted to do something romantic. Yes, this project might just have its possibilities...

There was no coffee left, so Finn started a new pot, setting the machine to fill it, so that all could have a second cup.

When the coffee machine was gurgling happily, she went out and casually sat on Challenger's lap, draping an arm over his shoulder. She leaned in and pecked him on the lips, feeling him squeeze her waist in return before running a hand down her back. She shivered slightly and snuggled closer. "Eggs will be right out, Lover. Veronica and Marguerite are going to cook the first set. Want 'em scrambled or over easy?"

"You decide, Finn. You said that you have not eaten yet, either, and I will enjoy them whichever way you prefer. But is it safe for us to sit this near the kitchen, Darling, with Marguerite in there?" He chuckled. "Do you think she will actually cook this time?" Marguerite Krux's kitchen incompetence was a running joke in the Treehouse.

"Sure, George. I think she's been building up to it. Maybe today, she subconsciously wanted us to corner her and insist. She didn't balk as much as usual. And I gave her a big speech about how much it would mean to her to know that she could make breakfast for John. I laid it on pretty thick, telling her how much it fulfills me to take care of you. Not that that has ever meant quite as much to any other woman as it does to me. But they never had my guy. You deserve the best, Baby, and I plan to be just that for you!" She leaned in and kissed him again.

Challenger, deeply touched (although a bit embarrassed by Finn's declarations of this order) said, "Finn, I hope that I shall always make you feel justified in the love that you have for me, which I assure you is returned in full. Darling, I fully appreciate all that you do, very much, and I hope that I remember to tell you how much I love you, too, and how appreciated your efforts are."

"So, Big Guy, you're gonna cook for me, too?" Finn grinned, knowing the probable answer.

"Ah, probably not," admitted Challenger. "It would be undignified. I am, after all, a man. One has to remember one's place. But perhaps I will create a new perfume fragrance for you, to celebrate this Valentine's Day thing. Would that be a suitable gift? Maybe I can create new fragrances for the other ladies, also. Would they like that?"

"Yeah, but maybe create their stuff later. I don't want to get the same gift as they do. Anyway, you don't have to give them gifts. Just me. You're stuck with me; I'm your white-hot lay and chief nurturer. Johnny and Ned will get the other girls things for V-Day."

"Oh, is that how it works? The men just each get their own lady something? Not like gifts all around, as at Christmas?""

"You got it, Genius. But didn't you ever celebrate Valentine's Day back in England? Not that I want to bring up Jessie, but..."

Challenger winced, and she knew that she had touched a raw nerve. "Finn, really...All right, I did celebrate this occasion with Jessie and before we married, with a few other young ladies whom I dated. But it was long ago, and I fear that after some years of marriage, I became lax in keeping up my duties of the union. Perhaps I should have tried harder, and my marriage would have gone better. I neglected poor Jessie so much in my drive to discover all manner of things..." His voice trailed off. and he looked so sad that Finn wanted to cry for him.

Instead, she leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder and just held him. He understood and held her also, and reached up and ran his hand down her hair, stroking it repeatedly, hoping that she didn't taste the tear that he knew had escaped his eye and was trickling down his cheek as he reflected on how much he had let slip things that he should have done.

Finn wiped her own eyes. "Don't worry, Muscles. We'll never get that sloppy in looking after one another. I just know it! If only you knew just how much you mean to me, you big genius!" And Finn did cry, a little. Challenger pulled her to him and they hugged and he told her that indeed, he would see to it that this day, Feb. 14, would always be special to them, and that he would remember to celebrate their love.

Marguerite stuck her head out of the kitchen to announce that whole wheat toast was ready (made in another of Challenger's inventions) but withdrew when she saw the intimate circumstances between the couple. A sarcastic remark died on her lips, and she motioned Veronica over and whispered to her.

Veronica was visibly upset and asked if they should go to Finn, to see if they could comfort her.

Marguerite shook her head. "No, whatever this is, it's between them, and it's not a quarrel. It's something tender and wonderful and shared very closely between them. I tease them about their love, but, Veronica, in truth; I am a bit jealous of it. Do you think John really cares that much for me? How sure are you of Ned? I mean, they love us, but I almost believe Finn when she boasts that hers is the love of all time, the epitome of the romance of the ages, etc, blah blah..." She tried to be flippant, but Veronica saw that Marguerite was genuinely moved and was made insecure by the intensity of what they had seen pass between the Challengers.

She peeked out and saw the tall man with ginger hair and beard and his young blonde mate talking quietly, caressing one another, and then their kiss, the way, he ran his hand tenderly down her back. She withdrew into the kitchen and smiled at her friend.

"Marguerite, they are so sweet together. But it doesn't mean that Ned and John love us any less intensely. They are just less demonstrative about it. They're both more easily embarrassed. George used to be, before she got to him so much that they melded to a degree that I think shocked them both, and they just sort of let their emotions become apparent and they don't care who sees. In fairness, if everyone was here, they would hide this or take it to their room. They don't know that we saw. And John DOES love you, so much that I think it frightens him sometimes. I see it in the way he looks at you. If you weren't so insecure, you'd realize that that man has you on a pedestal as high as the one that George made for Finn. It's just a pedestal within his heart, not sitting on the floor of your room. And as much as you tried to hide it, we've all known for a long time that you two were perfect for each other. "Veronica smiled at Marguerite and her cheeks glowed pink as she took her friend's hand."Marguerite, you and John are a wonderful couple. I hope that you do reach Avebury and live happily forever. Just remember to tell him what's bothering you, and talk it out. You'll get along fine. One of the main things that Ned and I and the Challengers have going for us is that we talk. There isn't much that we can't solve if we share what's bothering us."

"I don't think anything bothers Finn about George except that she can't find a way to snuggle any closer to him without actually crawling inside him." Marguerite sniffed. "But it is touching to watch, although we shouldn't BE watching. I mean, this is so utterly a private thing that I'm ashamed that I saw it, but it is so damned NICE, too..." She wiped her eye and Veronica held her and Marguerite cried a bit on her friend's shoulder.

"It's all right, Marguerite," purred Veronica. "John has you now and you have him. All of those lonely, untrusting years are in the past. Your own love is as intense as Finn's, just expressed a little differently."

"Vee? I feel so silly calling you that...Thank you. It does mean a lot to me to know that you sense that my love is secure. It's about time that I learned to accept that John Roxton does truly love me. He should show better judgement, but I'm glad that he hasn't. I quite like him, you know." Her lips trembled as she tried for a light touch.

"I know, Marguerite. And Finn was telling the truth when she said that it will thrill you to be able to make breakfast for him. That does make one feel so female and so full inside. At least, it works for me when I look after Ned and I know how much it means to him. Hey: let's make fresh toast. This is cold. Then, we'll interrupt the passionate embrace out there and get everyone's day underway. I have things to do before the boys get back, hopefully with some fish."

They turned as Finn entered. She avoided their eyes and muttered, "Okay, so I got a little emotional. I'm fine now. Where's the toast and the eggs? Lets' eat. Getting all teary-eyed gives me an appetite!" She smiled wanly and hugged Veronica back as her "sister" clasped her to her briefly.

Challenger had composed himself by the time they trooped back into the dining area, bearing plates of food and a pot of coffee. Veronica also had a pitcher of orange juice.

But Marguerite noticed the way that he and Finn looked at one another and the way their hands brushed as she served him, and then sat beside him as they began to eat.

Valentine's Day, she thought. What shall I try to get from Roxton? Another emerald? A diamond, nicely mounted, in a necklace? Then, it struck her with the force of a cricket bat that what she most wanted was to have a love that gave her the emotional security that she sought in material ways. I have my share of the treasure that we looted in Xochilenque, she reflected. (See, "The Crystal Skull") I must be one of the richest women in this hemisphere. And I know just who to sell those jewels and that gold to, to get the best prices. But the truly priceless thing that I long for is to have John touch me that way, so tenderly, so much in passing, or to look at me the way Finn does at George, knowing how he will look back into her eyes, and know the joy that they share.

She looked up abruptly as Veronica joined them. "I AM going to learn to cook this morning. Don't let me go upstairs until I can fry an egg and get it right. I'm depending on you, Veronica."

Veronica smiled and took her friend's hand. "Sure. Haven't you always been able to depend on me?"

"I'll help, too, Marguerite," said Finn. "But after we eat, I'm going upstairs and dress first. I might catch cold wearing just this before you get boiling an egg down right." But she smiled, and Marguerite managed to smile back.

Challenger finished breakfast and stayed as Finn and Veronica backed Marguerite toward the kitchen.

The heiress at first tried to insist on a third cup of coffee to, "harden my resolve" before trying to cook, but Veronica crossed her arms and gave her a fierce stare and Marguerite mumbled, "All right, all right, I surrender. I'll stumble into the bloody kitchen and do my best. "

As she entered the kitchen, she cast her eyes up and looked around.

"What are you looking for, Marguerite?" asked a puzzled Finn.

"The sign," explained Marguerite. "The one that should be over the door, reading, 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.' "

Everyone laughed, and Challenger explained to Veronica and Finn that Marguerite had taken this quote from a book about Hell, written by an Italian named Dante..

"Yes, that's why I said it; this is about Hell." Marguerite...

The others rolled their eyes and tried not to laugh, although they failed. Marguerite was drolly funny, and in spite of herself, she had managed to make friends in part because of her wry humor. John Roxton had told Challenger that her humor was among the first things that had attracted him to the sarcastic woman. "Of course, she is also rather easy on the male eye," Roxton had admitted.

"Wait a minute," said a thoughtful Finn. "Did this guy Dante go to Hell and come back? Otherwise, how could he tell people about it?"

"Hush, Finn, you're as bad as she is," laughed Veronica. Then, "George? That IS a good question."

"Ah, I expect that he lived in Italy and people there have such hot tempers and wave their hands around so much when they speak, that Dante may have just thought that he was in Hell, especially if he had had rather too much vino when he wrote. They're always having violent feuds there, too, and that's pretty Hellish, I daresay. Not funny? Well, I suppose that he must have been inspired by God or the need to have a paycheck from a publisher and he sort of made up what he THOUGHT Hell must be like. Really, I don't know where he got his ideas. But the book is a classic, rather like our Marguerite, so that's why she knew about it." He raised an eyebrow, gazing at the brunette beauty, who groaned theatrically and asked what she had to do first to cook an egg without incinerating it.

"Stand back, Finn, she's about to start, and you haven't any protective clothing on," said Challenger, pulling his woman back next to him at the far end of the kitchen. He stood defensively in front of her, as Finn began giggling hysterically.

"George, that isn't helping," admonished Veronica. "Marguerite is going to try, and so should we. Now, Marguerite, let's just use a little butter instead of cooking oil this time. It's less likely to smoke too much and start a fire."

They showed her how to fry one egg, and how to boil another, keeping a keen eye on the clock.

Both eggs were fully edible, although the over easy one was slightly dried out from not being taken up in time.

"Well, I didn't want to let any germs or anything live in it or have it gush out all raw, and disgust Roxton when he cuts into it," Marguerite explained.

Eventually, they decided that she had practiced enough for one occasion, and they poured fresh coffee. The boiled egg, they set aside in the refrigerator for Roxton to try when he got home, as his love's first effort for him in the kitchen. Challenger said that he would eat the other, the ladies proclaiming that they had had their fill.

"Let me make you a sandwich with that, Genius," said Finn, and she did, adding a little salad dressing to add flavor and keep it from being too dry.

At the table, they planned a party for the 14th of the month, just five days hence. Veronica would use the big signal drum to invite their Zanga friends, and the girls made tentative decoration plans for the Treehouse. Challenger stayed quiet, just nodding his head when they asked his opinion. He felt out of his element, and wondered how Ned and John would relate to all of this ceremony. What had he actually ought to get Finn for Valentine's Day, save for the new fragrance? She deserved something more, but he was not used to thinking of gifts for women. Some sort of jewelry? Probably. He would ask Marguerite later. She, of all people, should have ideas along those lines...

"Genius?" interrupted Finn. "Did you hear me? Is that okay with you?"

"Eh? Sorry, Darling, I was just thinking about something else. Is what all right?"

"I said, what about letting John put Marguerite atop my pedestal in our room when he gets home? Don't you think she deserves that, for being so brave in the kitchen?" And Finn and Veronica broke out laughing, while the dark haired adventuress gave them a jaundiced look. She stuck out her tongue at Veronica, and they all laughed harder.

So it was that Marguerite got her baptism of fire in cooking, and plans were laid for Valentine's Day in the Treehouse. Now, to tell the other men and get their cooperation

XXX

About two hours later, they heard the elevator coming up, and a now dressed Finn and her pal Vee went to meet it. Marguerite, now also dressed, came downstairs and approached more carefully, wringing her hands both literally and mentally.

She hid around a corner and waited to hear what the other girls might say when Malone and Roxton stepped off the elevator.

"Hi, Johnny, Ned," said Finn. Veronica repeated that, calling Roxton just "John" and kissing Malone.

Veronica took Ned's pack and Finn took Roxton's and handed them each a glass of lemonade.

"I must say, this certainly hits the spot!" said Roxton with a wide grin.

"Oh, it gets better," said Veronica, trying to keep a straight face.

Ned became suspicious. Something was up. "What's going on, Honey?" he asked Veronica. "Why the reception committee?"

"Johnny has a wonderful surprise coming," said Finn, almost jumping with joy and anticipation. "He has to eat an egg, but I think it'll be okay."

"What will be okay?" asked a puzzled Roxton. "What's this about some egg? We took sandwiches, so we're not starved. But will lunch be long?"

"Oh, lunch is ready, or will be soon," said Veronica mysteriously, "but you do sort of have to eat a boiled egg." Then she could help it no longer and broke out in laughter.

"Give!" demanded Malone, eying his woman with a raised eyebrow. "What's all this egg stuff about?"

"Well, boys, Marguerite has cooked her first meal, or snack, for John, and he needs to come see, and let her know how much he appreciates it. I can tell you, we had to work to get her to the stove, but she actually asked us to make her go there and learn to cook breakfast for you. George ate one egg, but she hard-boiled another, and you need to come see, and eat it."

Roxton stood, transfixed, wondering if this was some prank. He wouldn't put it past either Finn or Veronica, and the two together might well have hatched some silly escapade for a laugh, perhaps at his expense.

"Where's Marguerite?" he wanted to know, putting his Westley Richards rifle in the gun rack in the living room. He took off his hat and fanned his face, then swept the hat to fan air at Veronica, blowing her hair a little.

She smiled tolerantly and repeated The Story of Marguerite and the Egg.

Roxton smiled. Malone said, "You need to have a more plausible story if you're trying to fool us, girls. Everyone knows that Marguerite doesn't cook. What's the real deal here?" He also walked over and put his .450 rifle into the rack, unloading it first.

"Ask George. He was a witness," offered Finn. "Come on, you guys. Lets' go to the dining room, and I'll call Marguerite. I want to be there with her when you take the first bite. Vee. and I bugged her big-time to do this, and we'll be beside her for support when you try the egg. It should be fine."

Marguerite came out into view and stood shyly in front of Roxton. "I'm sorry about this melodrama, John," she said. "These two children hounded me until I did boil an egg and we saved it for you. They have to have something to entertain them. Blondes seemingly never grow up." She smiled timidly, a little tentatively, hoping that Roxton would try the egg, but embarrassed at the fuss the other girls were making of this silly issue.

Roxton looked carefully at Marguerite, trying to think of what might really be happening here. Sensing that she was uneasy and shy, he reached over and took her hands in his and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Is this true? You've actually cooked something, for me?" He looked both pleased and amused.

"John, really, this is so humiliating," she mumbled "But it is true that I did manage to cook an egg. They sort of dared me to do it. Finn said that if I did this, you would know that I truly love you, as if you didn't know that." She colored, and cast her eyes down. How had she been drawn into this ridiculous scheme by her fellow women?!

"So this is on the level?" asked Roxton. "You really did prepare this legendary boiled egg, for me?" He pulled her to him and held her.

"Come on," urged Finn. "We've just been waiting for you to get home and eat it. Wait! I'll get George. He'll want to see this." And she raced off to their room to summon Challenger.

Soon, all were seated and Veronica brought in The Egg and a Wusthof Trident (brand) kitchen utility knife and a saucer.

Roxton, seated at the head of the table, sliced open the egg with the six-inch blade of the fine German knife and added butter, salt, and pepper.. He sprinkled the salt and pepper with a dramatic flourish, amusing the others with his showmanship. He made a show of smelling the egg and studying it as he scooped it from the shell.

"Oh, John! Get on with this circus! We'll be here all day, and we've other things to do." Marguerite was visibly anxious.

Roxton chewed thoughtfully, sipped coffee, and nodded, a pleased look on his face. Malone hid a grin, Veronica standing beside him as he sat, holding his hand. She was smiling broadly, and looked encouragingly at Marguerite. She squeezed Ned's hand and looked down at him, too. He smiled back.

Roxton pronounced the egg to be just fine and looked intently at Marguerite who went to stand beside him. "You really did this, to please me?" he inquired.

"No, I bloody did it to please the ghost of Queen Victoria! Of course, I did it to please you! What other reason would I have for doing this?"

Roxton stood, holding her hands again. He kissed her and thanked her, knowing how much of her pride and laziness she must have set aside to do this, especially while being razzed by Veronica and Finn, who had probably been merciless in their teasing.

"Isn't it great, Johnny?" asked Finn. "I told her how much I like taking care of George and she finally got up the nerve to cook. That egg that George ate was okay, too, he said. She can probably make breakfast for you in the morning just fine. We taught her to make toast, too, by the way." She was grinning at both of the Roxtons, clearly not being malicious now, but sincerely proud of Marguerite and delighted at the way John was looking at her and the way that Marguerite looked back as she realized that he was so touched by this simple gesture.

"I need to go upstairs and get out of these clothes and wash up," Roxton announced. "Will you come with me, Marguerite?"

She looked back fondly, rubbed noses with him, and nodded. "Yes, John. I'll help you freshen up before lunch. Welcome home, by the way. I'm sorry that we greeted you with this silly scene when you must be tired from that trek to the quarry."

He held her close and told her that this was not silly, but wonderful, thanking her for caring enough to do this for him. Then, he led her by the hand up the stairs to their room, the couple looking into one another's eyes and touching fondly.

"Wasn't that super, Genius? Ned? "Finn was beaming, as was Veronica.

"I guess the rest of us had better clean these fish," said Ned, referring to the ten-pound red-tailed catfish and three peacock "bass" that he and Roxton had brought home. The girls and Malone and Challenger went into the kitchen and Ned told them about his journey that morning as they scaled and gutted fish.

"Oh, by the way, we're celebrating Valentine's Day this year," Veronica announced. And she brought Ned up to date on what had happened in the Treehouse during his absence.

XXX

Roxton led Marguerite into their room, and stood in front of her, looking into her eyes, a smile on his lips. "Thank you, Marguerite," he said. "That was very touching."

A thought struck Marguerite. "Wait a minute: you didn't set this up with Finn, to get me to do this, did you? When you two were hunting yesterday? This isn't a plot by the Gun People to see if I'd cook for you?" (She sometimes sarcastically referred to her man and his young blonde hunting companion and fellow firearms enthusiast as the Gun People. It amused her to do this when the other two got involved in discussing weapons, to her boredom.)

Roxton laughed. "No, but if she'd suggested it, I'd never have thought that you'd do it. I guess she and Veronica just wanted to see if you could be goaded into the kitchen. But, you did do this for me, to prove that you care? Like Finn falls all over herself looking after George?"

"Yes, John. Did it please you? I hope it did. I want so very much to let you know how much you mean to me. I desperately want to say in some way how much I care. This was all that I could think of, and I thought you might like it, especially after I make your complete breakfast tomorrow, now that I can." She looked anxiously for his approval.

His face broke into a broad smile and he told her with his eyes how successful her effort to please had been.

"Marguerite Krux, you are without doubt the most wonderful woman I have known. Finn and George are wrong about them having the warmest love on Earth, for that is what we share. Don't tell Finn that I said so. I don't want to argue with her, but I want you to know this. And what this means to me, I can't express. Or, perhaps I can, physically." He held up a finger for her to wait.

Roxton walked to the door and called downstairs. "Marguerite and I may be a little late for lunch. Please don't wait for us. We have something to discuss."

"We have? What are we discussing?"

""We are discussing how quickly I can get that blouse and skirt off of you and show you how fully I love you," he replied, leading her toward the bed. He slammed the door as they passed it.

Half an hour later, a naked Marguerite writhed in his arms, thinking that learning to cook hadn't been such a bad idea after all. I could get used to this, she decided. But if cooking a boiled egg for John gets him this excited, dare I try an omelet? And she glowed as she reached again for his lips with her own. Why not an omelet? she decided. I like living dangerously! And she laughed, her voice full of delight as Roxton thrust within her, and she moved her loins in rhythm with him as their eyes spoke volumes of their love for one another.

XXX

Downstairs, the others finished cleaning the fish, and grilled some of the "bass" for lunch. Challenger had worked with the blonde girls to make a new fish sauce that was delightful, but the pavon (also called tucanare in Brazil) is not a true freshwater bass, and many say that the flavor is considerably better than the North American largemouth bass. But the sauce added much to the appeal of any fish dish, and worked as well with fowl, of which they trapped or shot several species.

"Did you know that the peacock 'bass' is actually a cichlid?" asked Challenger. "They are hard fighters, and welcome on the table. I do so miss going fishing for trout or salmon at home, but these tropical species offer fine sport as well as food."

"What's a cichlid?" asked Ned Malone.

"Hush, Ned," said his woman. "If you ask, George will tell you. And tell you, and tell you." But she smiled to take the sting out of her quip.

Challenger looked miffed, and as if he was holding back a retort. Finn saw, and walked over and kissed him and asked if he'd like to be seated. "We have everything about ready now, Genius. What are you drinking?"

"Ah," said a mollified Challenger, "I believe that I'll have some of that iced tea that Ned likes. I have gradually become accustomed to it, and I see that we have a pitcher ready."

"And real ice, thanks to your refrigerator," noted Veronica, who saw that she had upset the scientist by teasing him about his willingness to explain almost any subject that came up, if anyone would listen. Sometimes, she had to admit, his knowledge was useful. And life in the Treehouse was a lot easier, thanks to his inventions and knowledge of medicinal plants.

Challenger looked at her more kindly. "Thank you, my dear. I am always happy to make things more tolerable for all of us."

"You work miracles, Genius." said Finn. "Go sit, and we'll bring all the stuff in."

Soon, all were eating, plates set for the missing Marguerite and John Roxton. Malone looked meaningfully at these empty settings and Veronica warned him with her eyes to say nothing. She knew what was in his mind, but being less a censor of human behavior as long as it wasn't harmful to others, she was more tolerant of their friends' conduct. Besides, she and Ned had been doing basically the same thing as the Roxtons since their return from Xochilenque several months previously. On the whole, Ned had accepted this, so perhaps he was just piqued now that the missing couple was delaying all of them getting along with their day.

Talk flowed, and Malone asked Challenger again for a description of how cichlids differed from the bass of his American youth, other than their brilliant, exotic colors and better flavor. "Brief version," added Veronica. Finn snickered.

After Challenger had distinguished the fish species, Veronica brought up Valentine's Day again. They considered how to decorate the Treehouse and what to have for a special dinner that night, with decorations on the table.

"Let's invite Assai and Sa'eera, too," suggested Ned. "They're fun, and they may make this a tradition among the Zanga, too, if they like it."

"Not likely," observed Veronica. "Jacoba is protective of their traditions and celebrations, most of which have tribal or religious significance. Even Xma'Klee would be dubious about a new holiday. But the two girls will probably like coming. Jarl (Assai's husband) may come, but Jacoba won't. It would be beneath his dignity, and I really don't see him as a fun guest, so..." Jacoba had once tried to purchase Veronica for his harem, and she was still a little afraid of the usually dour and conceited Zanga monarch. He had his tender side, mainly among his wives, especially the first, the Great Wife, and Sa'eera, the youngest and liveliest. But he was not a likely guest candidate for any of the white peoples' celebrations.

As they considered what to make to enhance the upcoming holiday, the Roxtons descended the stairs, and both blushing like a setting sun, greeted their friends and got their own food in the kitchen.

After they were seated, they were brought up to date on proceedings, and Marguerite was asked what she thought.

She considered briefly, and then offered some excellent ideas about hanging red spheres and hearts from the ceiling and making a lace display for the table. "And, I'll bring John, "she concluded. "He will be the REALLY romantic decoration." She smirked as Roxton shifted in embarrassment.

"Well," jibed Finn, " you know what girls say: a hard man is good to find." She grinned as Ned realized what she meant and blushed, half choking on a bite of food. Veronica had been about to tell her that she had some words out of order, then she, too, caught the meaning and broke out laughing, in spite of her effort to keep a straight face.

"Very damned funny," from Marguerite. "I had in mind his appeal to the heart, not to the glands. But now that you mention it..."

"Could we please just get back to discussing this blooming party?" asked Roxton, who was feeling very self conscious, although pleased that Marguerite had become more open about her love for him.

"I'll get dessert," decided Veronica. "Is everyone ready? Ned, will you help me?"

Over coffee and cake, they completed plans for the Feb. 14 ceremonies, and that afternoon, Veronica went to the signal drum, and beat out an invitation to their Zanga friends.

XXX

Late that afternoon, John Roxton and Marguerite Krux stood on the second floor balcony of the Treehouse. They stood very close, their shoulders touching.

They looked at the setting sun and Roxton turned his woman and kissed her lips, to which she replied with a fierce embrace and some of the best lip action that he had ever experienced from a woman.

When they parted slightly, he said softly, "Thank you for cooking that egg, Marguerite, and for what came after. It was a little embarrassing to be late for lunch, as I'm quite sure that the others knew that we weren't just talking. But what we did was very nice. I really liked that. You are one hell of a woman." He kissed her forehead.

"Oh," she teased. "Nice, was it? I'd have thought that what we did was rather naughty."

He laughed. "Well, there are times when naughty is nice, especially when I'm with you."

"Who else have you been with lately?" she rejoined. "How do I compare? What exactly do you and Finn get up to on those intimate little hunting trips?" But she was smiling, even looked rosy, and Roxton knew that she was teasing.

Roxton smiled back and said," Never you mind what Finn and I get up to; it doesn't compare to what you have to offer. Marguerite, you are the ultimate woman. The flower of humanity, and the wonder of the galaxy. I won't pretend that I haven't had other women. You knew that before we left London. I'm afraid that I had something of a reputation as a ladies' man. But I tell you in all truth, that none of them was a shadow of what you are, and what I feel for you I had thought never to experience."

"What, disgust at my past?" She blushed, razzing him, but still a little concerned how he would react if he knew the full truth of her former life.

"Oh, quite the contrary, although I can think of some disgusting, very naughty things that I'd like to do to you. With you, I mean. Where are the others? Can we sneak upstairs and into our room without being seen?"

"John Roxton! Are you propositioning me? An unmarried, almost respectable woman?" But she glowed, and her smile lit the heavens for him.

"Marguerite, I respect you entirely, more so than some presumably more 'respectable' ladies whom I've known who have had much more 'proper'' pasts than you have. But you are the woman whom I love. And I should think that by now, you would know it, and that your past, lurid as it may be, is not a factor in our relationship. Although I must, say, I am glad that I finally coaxed you to show me some of those slave girl moves that Avery Burton coerced you and Finn to learn. You must have almost stopped the hearts of those men who were training you when they saw how you can do that floor roll, where you wind up on your knees, looking so vulnerable and desirable and eager to please. Finn told me that she was a little jealous of how you moved then, and she tried to beat your style. Don't frown; she hasn't said too much more about that time, just that you could really move and excite the men to a degree that she envied."

Marguerite said a little tartly, "Well, Finn was quite the star of the production, herself. She was even being congratulated on how well she did those positions and moves. I was glad that I could dance better. I was a little jealous of her, too, but don't tell her. I don't want her to know that we might discuss that. Although I may tell her myself someday how much I admired her style and her wit then. Her support and her ability to distract Burton from me at crucial times was a great help. But let's get back to the present. I believe that you were offering to make me a sordid woman if we can find some privacy. Veronica has the others cleaning the Treehouse. If she sees us, she'll give us brooms or something. Isn't there a large couch in the gun room, where you keep the Maxim and the spare small arms?" (The Maxim machinegun was one of the items obtained from the base of the slavers slain in, "A Night in the Lost World".)

"Yes, in fact there is," Roxton replied, his eyes twinkling. "Will you step into the gun room with me, Marguerite? I have something to show you." He nudged her with a pelvic thrust and she had a very good idea of what he wanted to show her.

"Maybe," she reflected. "What was that that you were just saying about me being the most desirable woman in the galaxy, or was that the universe?"

He laughed. "I believe that I said the galaxy, Marguerite, but it may well be the whole universe. You are certainly the center of my universe."

"Why, Lord Roxton! Keep saying things like that and I may grow quite fond of you. Who knows what I might get up to with you, behind closed doors?"

He leered. "Let's' go to the gun room. I have the key to the lock in my pocket. We'll go in there, close the door, and see just what it is you mean." And he pulled her to him and their lips again touched, sparks of electricity flying almost visibly.

Marguerite positively glowed, her complexion rivaling the crimson and orange sherbet hues of the lowering sun behind them. "I wish now that I hadn't put on trousers before we came down to lunch," she regretted. "But they'll come off if you lay me down and pull on them. A skirt would just have made it too easy for you. Besides, while you're undressing me, it will give you time to think of evil things to do to me. Oh, be still, my heart!" And she laughed a delighted laugh.

They slipped off the balcony, after checking to see that no one would see them, then went down the stairs on tiptoe to the next level of their dwelling. Roxton quietly unlocked the door to the arms room, and pocketed the lock. It wouldn't do to have one of their friends discover them in there and lock the door from outside as a prank. Finn, Malone, or Veronica were all capable of that, if they saw the opportunity...

He removed his gun belt and took her revolver and holster off her, and pulled her shirt from the top of the jodhpur pants. He felt her pulling out his own shirt. Then, with her bare above the waist, he began toying with her breasts and running his hand down her hair and playing with her ears and neck. He tossed her white lace camisole onto a chair. She had worn no bra.

She pulled him over to the couch and lay down, lifting her legs. "Get these things off me, John," she commanded, and he complied, taking her boots, pulling firmly on her trousers until her long, lovely legs were exposed, a feast for his eyes. He tossed the jodhpurs aside onto a chair where he had placed their other things and unfastened his belt. Marguerite arched her back and shrugged out of her own panties, throwing them to John. He looked at them, noting that they were a bikini style that Finn had designed, although Marguerite had sewn them. They were a pretty shade, jade green. He added them to the clothes on the chair, and moved to join her on the couch. Later, in their room, he would tell her to wear just these panties. He wanted to see her in them, standing, walking, moving around, being her, and being his.

We will now draw the curtain, for what the couple did next should be private.

XXX

Later, they dressed, and were standing in the main room of the Treehouse, holding hands, lips touching. John put a hand behind her waist and pulled her to him and their hands began doing intimate things to one another.

Veronica and Finn walked out of the kitchen, where they were preparing dinner.

"Oh, there you are!" exclaimed Veronica.

"Oh, yuck! " said Finn as the couple sprang apart. "Get a room!" But she was grinning.

"Maybe we don't need to celebrate Valentine's Day here, after all," said Veronica. "Some of us seem to be managing to be entirely too romantic without a special day for it." Then she smiled too, and called out that dinner was ready. "This time, the Roxtons WILL be joining us on time. I think they may be too worn out to do otherwise, and it's for sure they've been working up an appetite."

And so, they sat down to eat, the others carefully avoiding talking about the Roxton couple's absence earlier. But Finn nudged Challenger and whispered to him that John and Marguerite were holding hands under the table. He smiled and took Finn's hand. She beamed, and all was at peace in the Treehouse as everyone listened to Ned talking about repairing the windmill that afternoon.

"I could have used some help with that," he said, looking pointedly at Roxton. "I finally had to get Challenger to come down and give me a hand. But we got it done."

"Well," said Marguerite, "I'm glad that we all got something fun done today." And she winked at Roxton, who cleared his throat in embarrassment and reddened slightly. But Veronica saw him smile, and shook her head, half in admiration and half in amusement. What can we expect on V-Day if some of us are already this involved, she wondered, but she smiled and raised the issue of decorating the Treehouse and announced that their Zanga friends would indeed attend. I hope we don't shock them; she thought and almost laughed out loud.

XXX

That night, the Challengers lay quietly in one another's arms.

George ran his hand down Finn's body and she rolled onto her stomach.

"Rub my back, Genius," she begged. "You do that so well, it makes me feel like I've died and gone to Heaven." She purred as he began stroking her, her nubile body nude save for pale pink panties made of a new, almost transparent material that Challenger had developed. Marguerite had embroidered a lace overlay of a rose- like flower unique to the Plateau on the front, and they had lace trim at waist and leg holes. Finn had been wearing them a lot of late, testing the new material. Marguerite liked the material, but Veronica said that she'd prefer to wear those made of less see-through substances!

Finn giggled as Challenger grabbed her hair, which was in a short ponytail, and gave it a playful yank. He laid it aside, exposing her neck to the ministrations of his skilled fingers.

"Oooh, George! DO that, I am such a sucker for your neck rubs! I don't know how I survived until you showed me what having your fingers on my neck and back could feel like. This is paradise, Lover. Hey: have you thought any more about Valentine's Day?"

Challenger decided to tease her. "Eh? About which day?"

"George..." she said warningly. But she snickered, knowing that he was playing with her.

"Actually, Darling, the very prospect of that, the whole concept, frightens me. It seems a daunting thing to a man. The road is fraught with perils, from a male perspective. What should Ned, John, and I be doing? We have but a few days to prepare, and I can tell you, the other lads and I are clueless. You girls certainly put the cat among the pigeons when your 'social committee' announced that we will celebrate this event."

"It's not that hard, Genius. With your world-class brain, you should be able to think of something. Seriously, plan to wear your nice tweed coat and clean, pressed trousers. Get John and Ned into their tuxedos and all of you guys had better plan on bringing us chicks some flowers. Hey! Can you make chocolate?! That WOULD be Paradise!" She rolled over and sat up, staring at him with the realization that her man was, after all, one of the foremost scientists and geniuses of all time. Maybe he COULD make chocolate candy! The ultimate feminine delight! Well, fairly close to whatever was ...She knew that it was probably too much to expect a portable vibrator, but candy...that might be an achievable goal. The girls will be so thrilled if we can do that, she thought. I'd be unanimously elected Chick of the Month!

Challenger was startled, but quickly gathered his wits, and thought.

"You know Finn; we may just be able to do that very thing! I know that I can use flavorings and sugar and water to make some hard candies, but chocolate will be more difficult. But we know that the Tecamaya emperor drank chocolatl, as did the Aztecs, so they must grow the cocoa plant here.(See the Fic, "The Crystal Skull") I'll ask Xma'Klee if it might be possible to obtain the beans via trade channels. He may know of some nearby source.

"But we should need a recipe, and other ingredients. I'll ask Veronica to check her mother's cookbooks. If nothing else, I can probably refine their chocolatl into cocoa as we know it, hot chocolate to Ned, I believe. That will get some of the substance into your veins, and who knows what passions that may arouse?" He chuckled. "Darling, if it is humanly possible to make chocolate candy here, I swear to you that I will manage it. I would love to give you that delight, and I know that the other girls would like it, too."

He pulled her forward in a deep lean and kissed her lips, and she reached for him, sliding over until she sat up directly in front of him, exchanging kisses and nibbles. She slid against his groin, wrapping her legs around his waist and began moving in a way that left Challenger very interested indeed in discovering a way to craft chocolate candies.

"George, what would we need? I know there's something called cocoa butter and sugar and whatnot. It would be so cool if we can do this!" She almost trembled with anticipation, and Challenger reminded himself how strange, yet wonderful, women were, and how very different. Still, it would be jolly nice to have really good candy, and his refrigerator would make that possible in the tropics. And he knew that chocolate acted on women's nerve receptors, working to raise endorphin levels, exciting their pleasure centers. There were usually sound scientific explanations for most things, and this explained how chocolate worked on the ladies. And even men liked it. Yes, a very worthy goal! If anyone could do this, he, George Challenger, the preeminent scientist of his day, could! And it would excite Finn to have the other girls know that it was her man who had done this wonderful thing. He loved her, and wanted her to be able to brag that he had done this. Not that he was personally vain, of course, but he wanted his girlfriend to be proud of him, and she would probably be especially affectionate if he managed to achieve this lofty goal. But sex alone wasn't his motivation. He really did want to bask in Finn's admiration, just because he loved her and wanted to impress her. And the challenge was tremendous, truly worthy of his best efforts...

"Darling, I swear to you, if this can be done, we will do it! I shall want you to assist me, but do not yet tell the other ladies what we are up to. If we manage to accomplish our goal, it will be a great triumph. But should we fail, I had just as soon not have them crestfallen."

She nuzzled his nose with hers and kissed him again. "All we can do is try, Genius. But I want to do this with you."

They talked a bit longer, then checked to see that their revolvers were loaded and on each side of the bed, and that a candle and a flashlight were at hand, then turned off the bedside lamp, powered by the main generator.

Finn snuggled against him, then rolled over and leaned her head on his shoulder. "'Night, George. I can't wait until tomorrow. Just think: if we can make that chocolate, even Marguerite will have to admit that blondes can have good ideas, and that my man is the greatest inventor who ever lived!"

Challenger was by no means certain that making chocolate here would mark him down for all time as the world's greatest scientist, but Finn's approval was worth almost as much as a Nobel Prize to him, so he would give the project his best effort.

XXX

The next morning, after breakfast, Challenger and Finn set out for the Zanga village, ostensibly to obtain some herbs from Xma'Klee. They were, of course, in search of cocoa beans.

Marguerite wanted to come, partly to evade housework, partly to get some trade cloth from the Zanga to make shirts and trousers. And she knew that they had turquoise, surprisingly far from where it was usually worked, in the American Southwest by such tribes as the Zuni, Navaho, and Hopi. Marguerite had seen their work and had silver. With the turquoise, she could make similar jewelry, and different styles, also. Roxton had forged some iron arrowheads as trade material, and Veronica had made some glass and wooden bead necklaces and bracelets. They had quarried some extra Novaculite and Roxton had taught the Zanga to use this superior stone to hone their blades. She was looking forward to the trip.

After they had gone, Roxton decided to chop a supply of wood for cooking and burning trash. He set up some branches to split, checked that the head was securely on the axe handle, and took off his shirt. He propped a large stick against a stump and raised the axe. The head was sharp and bit deeply, and he soon was into a routine, swinging time after time, splitting a number of sticks.

He heard something behind him and half reached for his rifle when he saw Veronica walking toward him with a pitcher of lemonade. She had stood quietly for almost a minute after coming around the corner from the elevator, staring at him, watching his muscles work, the way they rippled, studying his tan limbs and the rhythm of his work. She was enchanted.

This man was her close friend's "property" and Veronica had no intention of trespassing on Marguerite's turf, but John Roxton was just such a joy to observe, as she might a statue by Rodin, or a classical Greek sculpture. She drew in her breath, her eyes wide as she remembered how he had looked, wearing almost nothing, as he had fought the renegade Zanga, Xu'ac, in the arena of the Tecamaya emperor, Cuauhtémoc XIV. Swinging Aztec sword clubs, Roxton and Xu'ac had sought to kill one another, and Roxton had won, although not before Marguerite had fainted in the stands above, where she and Veronica sat bound at the emperor's feet, forced to watch the savage combat. (See, "The Crystal Skull" Fic.) She had known the thrill of seeing the raw maleness of Roxton, and she knew that she had reacted, and that Marguerite had seen some of that. She had actually begun to lubricate, and had been ashamed, for Roxton was not hers to have. Besides, she usually saw him as more of a brother or cousin. Still, he was a strong male, and sometimes, she caught herself comparing Ned Malone to him and found Ned wanting. But he had other qualities, and she loved him. Also, she preferred to be the stronger member of a sexual partnership, and Ned allowed this, although he had begun to stand up more for himself in recent months. And she recalled how he had, with Finn, come to her rescue in Xochilenque, the Tecamaya city, where they had known such peril and obtained such riches as to leave them all wealthy for life if they were reasonably prudent in spending.

She felt guilty for watching Roxton when she remembered Ned, who was more the man she personally needed, anyway. But John was such fun to see! She hoped that her face wasn' t flushed with a bloom of passion, as she feared it was. Maybe she could blame the sun.

She moved now, aware that Roxton was turning. She pretended that she was just arriving and took the pitcher and a glass over to him. "I thought that you might like some lemonade," she offered. "I'll take some to Ned, too. You men have been working hard, and the sun is hot today. "

Roxton smiled, grateful for the refreshment. They sat, and she asked how he was faring with the Valentine's Day issue.

He smiled weakly. "Veronica, I admit that I am flat stymied. Ned and George are, too. We got this on short notice. George says that Finn told him that we had better wear our best and bring flowers to that party, and that I can deal with. I know that Marguerite likes me to put on my tux, even in this heat. But what personal gift might I get her? Any advice?"

She thought, and said that she would help him make up a nice ring for his love, from the loot that he had taken as his personal stash as they fled Xochilenque. "I can sketch several bracelets or a necklace, probably bracelets. Then, I can cast the gold links for the bracelet we select and add a few gems. I can have it ready in time. But I just thought of something else that would thrill Marguerite..." Smiling, she told him her plan, and Roxton soon smiled, too. Yes, Marguerite would indeed like this surprise.

As she left to find Ned at the generator, Veronica felt better for her brief fantasy about Roxton. She had at least given him an idea that would please Marguerite, and she felt that she had atoned somewhat for her pleasure in watching her friend's man.

XXX

When the three explorers reached the Zanga village, it was bazaar day, and they walked the displays, Challenger and Finn helping to carry the trade goods.

Marguerite soon drifted off on her own, bound no doubt to see what jewelry was available.

Sa'eera heard that they were there, and asked her lord's permission to join her white friends. Jacoba brushed her toward the bazaar, smiling indulgently, motioning for the second youngest wife (also blonde, thanks to Challenger's hair dye) to bring him more native beer.

Challenger saw Sa'eera coming and asked, "Darling, have you noticed that the Zanga seem more Polynesian in form and color than most South American natives? They are certainly paler than the Tecamaya and the other Indians. Sa'eera is half white of course, her father being from the Layton expedition. But the others, like Assai, seem more Tahitian or Hawaiian than Indian. Some of them have quite fine features, especially the women."

"Quit thinking about their women," Finn chided with a smile. "Seriously, Genius, they may have had some Spanish or Portuguese ancestors. Do you really think they could come all the way from Hawaii?" Finn had known little of geography when she had arrived from New Amazonia, but had been devouring Veronica's library, and studying the globe mounted on a pedestal in their home. She was fascinated with other lands and hearing from her friends about those who lived there.

"They do look Polynesian," he persisted. "Someday, we may learn more of them and of the Negroid looking Olmec from Mexico. The Earth holds many mysteries." (Writer's note: This was well before Norwegian explorer Thor Heyerdahl proved that Polynesians had probably reached South America.)

Finn saw her friend and set her bag of trade goods down and ran to her and they embraced. They were soon talking up a storm, and Challenger, distracted, tuned them out as men do when women chatter. He wandered over to a display and began studying some colorful rocks that he hadn't seen before. Clearly, they represented new geological information about this Plateau. Some were the expected sedimentary ones from near the Inland Sea, but some of the metamorphic ones were quite interesting...

"George!" Marguerite repeated, louder this time. She was amused that he got so interested in science, but it could be a challenge to get his attention at such times.

""Eh? What? Marguerite, look at this rock. See the natural striations?"

"Lovely, I'm sure," she said. "Look, do you remember what Cuauhtémoc was drinking when we were taken to his throne room? Oh, sorry: you and Finn weren't with us then. You had evaded capture, and thank God for that! But he was drinking what they called chocolatl, like his Aztec forebears. It's a drink made from cocoa beans. It can be refined or improved to make our hot cocoa."

"I have heard you mention that, and asked John about it, but what of it?" He was surprised that she would bring this up now. He trusted Finn to keep their secret, so why would Marguerite know of their ambitions in this area?

"It tasted pretty good," she recalled. "Veronica and I were allowed a cup of it with our breakfasts before we were tied and taken on our leashes to the arena where John had to fight Xu'ac." (See "The Crystal Skull") She lowered her eyes and shook slightly as she recalled that terrifying experience. "He had some of that with the other dishes in his throne room. But we could make that if we had the ingredients, and it's a nice alternative to coffee...some days. We could probably develop it and make our own cocoa. Couldn't you do that? As Finn so often tells us, you are a genius. She even calls you that half of the time."

"She just uses that as a nickname," Challenger declared. "But it is true that she knows that I am a genius. Some secrets are hard to hide." He smiled at his joke. "But why mention this now, Marguerite? We have no access to those beans to make it. I admit that I am brilliant, if modest (he smiled), but even I must have the ingredients to make something."

"Well, come see what I just found! George, I think it is cocoa beans!"

Challenger was stunned, Could Marguerite be correct?

"Darling, come," he called to Finn. "Marguerite thinks she may have found the very thing that we seek!" He turned and gestured to Marguerite to lead the way to the discovery.

She studied him carefully. "What do you mean, George? What you and Finn 'sought'?"

"Well, great, Genius!" said Finn "You just let the cat out of the bag, big-time! Marguerite, have you found chocolate? Or, the ingredients?"

The trio and Sa'eera talked rapidly about the issue as they hastened to the seller of cocoa beans. "George Challenger, "said Sa'eera."These will indeed be the beans that you want. Old Gu'lab sells those here every week. He has raised them since his grandfather's time. They took some of the beans and the plants that grow them from the first war with the Tecamaya. That girl from another tribe whom you rescued from the Tecamaya helps to make the drink from them. Husband is very fond of it. We have been drinking that for years. I had no idea that you wanted some. I will ask Husband to let me serve you some as we make it, and if it is what you want, getting more beans or plants should be no problem. I am a queen here, and am Husband's favored wife after the Great Wife, I think, and I can usually prevail on him to grant my wishes. Especially after Marguerite taught me the dances of the Sand Peoples!"

They laughed, for it was well known that Jacoba loved to see his wives perform the Arabic dances, and had even sent Marguerite an emerald for teaching them.

They went to the Royal kraal and made grave greetings to Jacoba, who graciously allowed Sa'eera to make some chocolatl, including some for him and the Great Wife. He and Challenger conferred as the women worked, talking and laughing as the water heated and they prepared the drink. Finn watched intently, wanting George to be proud of what she learned.

Soon, they enjoyed the drink, and Marguerite said that it was indeed what she had tasted in Xochilenque.

Jacoba sent for the former Tecamaya slave girl, Naira, and the old man who sold the beans, and the explorers soon traded for some of the beans. The old man promised to come to the Treehouse with some of the plants. He could hardly do less as Jacoba looked sternly at him, encouraging his positive answer to Challenger's request.

"Perhaps Marguerite will herself dance for me on your next visit if the project is successful?" Jacoba said, looking serious.

"May it please mighty Jacoba, if I have my man's permission, I will do so, and Finn or Veronica may join me? I would be honored to perform before so great a king." She cast her eyes shyly down, having learned long ago to flatter powerful men. But she laughed inwardly. Still, she had her female vanity. If John didn't demur, she would indeed dance almost naked before this man and further train his wives. If Roxton and her other male friends sat nearby, rifles at hand, in case he grew too possessive...

So, it was with happiness in their hearts that the Treehouse dwellers finished their trading and headed homeward with lightness in their steps. Chocolate candy was too far in their future for Valentine's Day, but the women thanked Challenger and expressed their great confidence in his ability to decipher the secrets of this new plan. Challenger felt quite tall, but worried that he might not achieve their expectations. Then, he recalled that he was British, and brilliant, too. If the Spaniards and the Dutch could discover chocolate and hot cocoa, surely he could! And he was happy as he slung his rifle on his shoulder and took Finn's hand, Marguerite walking by his other side, the women talking excitedly of how they looked forward to eating chocolates in their home!

XXX

Back at the Treehouse, Roxton finished chopping wood. He stacked it with Malone's aid, and the men discussed their women and the upcoming specter of Valentine's Day.

"I'm kind of dreading this, John," admitted Ned Malone. "Have you figured out what we're supposed to be doing? Back in the States, I might get chocolates, a rose, a greeting card for whoever I was dating then. We're a little short of card and candy and flower shops here."

Roxton chuckled. "At least, the flowers here will be for free. I'm giving Marguerite a ring and a bracelet. Veronica is making them up from loose gold and jewels that I got at Xochilenque. But I' m glad that Veronica offered to help. Marguerite is easy to shop for, though: some sort of jewelry will always do." He laughed.

"We can't get them dresses or lingerie; they have to make those, themselves," noted Ned. "But I must say that underwear from the future that Finn introduced is a real visual delight. Whew!" He took off his hat and fanned himself, grinning. "Now that they have the general idea, Marguerite and Veronica are coming up with their own designs along those lines. Hey: did Marguerite keep that little gee-string thing that she had to wear in Xochilenque? I insisted that Veronica keep hers and she made another when we got home. The ocelot fur one. That just takes my mind off of anything else that I might even try to think of when I see her in it."

Roxton smiled. "Well, Ned, I believe that is its purpose, and Veronica certainly does it justice! You have a lovely, very talented woman there. Yes, Marguerite kept hers, and has since made two variants on it. She did that when no one else was at home, and it's our secret, so keep this to yourself. She wears it when she especially wants attention, and I got her to do that Arabian dancing it it when we were alone. As you may well imagine, that is even more breathtaking than what you've seen her do when all the girls perform. Now that she's accepted that I don't condemn her morally for being able to dance that way, she seems to actually enjoy it. I think the way that I look at her appeals to her vanity. She has so much else to her, but every pretty woman still likes to know that she can all but drag her man's eyes from their sockets when she struts her stuff dressed that way, I expect. But that little slip dress of Finn's must embarrass George. I don't want Marguerite appearing in public in something like that. Your lady has some dresses as short, but they seem more demure, somehow. Some of that is the color and the subtle detail, I'm sure."

Malone shifted uncomfortably. "I have a story to tell about that," he admitted. "At the last party where she wore that, Finn motioned to me to come into the kitchen with her. She told me that she'd noticed me staring at her. She said that it was 'cool' with her, but to please try not to get caught by Vee or George or it would maybe upset them, and they'd hassle her to quit wearing it. She was nice about it, but I was still awfully embarrassed." He flushed, recalling the incident and how Finn had looked in that short coral dress.

"She's one to talk!" exclaimed Roxton. "Did you notice the way she looked at us out of the corner of her eye when she came downstairs recently on dance night to tell us that the other girls were still figuring out what to wear, or whatever? I'd swear that she was looking to see who was watching her and what impression she was making in that halter top and little green loincloth. My word, Ned! She had on less than most Zanga girls wear! Well, so did the others when they came down, but I think Finn wanted to put on a private show for us and was peeking to be sure that she was getting our attention. Never underestimate female vanity."

Ned reflected and replied, "John, I think she does it for the same reasons why other women do, but I think Finn also needs to feel really appreciated and to know that she's valued. You know, because of her self esteem issues from her past. Challenger really gave her a new life. I suppose that it has a lot to do with the way that she fell for him so heavily when she realized how important he is, not just to us, but back in Britain. And he cares about her, so much! That must mean the world to someone who grew up as she did. I used to be pretty upset that he was bedding a girl maybe younger than his daughter would be, if he had had one. But now, I think Finn may have a point when she brags that their love is the romance for all eternity. They're the odd couple, but they seem to meet one another's needs precisely, and they just clicked."

Roxton concurred. "They are certainly the classic case of the round peg fitting into the round hole." The possible double entendre struck him, and he colored slightly. "But, look, Ned, we must think of what all to do and we have only two days left. Are you really going to wear a tux?"

Malone shuffled, embarrassed."Yeah, I have to. Veronica said so."

Roxton laughed. "You aren't feeling just a trifle 'pussywhipped' are you, Ned?"

Malone retorted, "Wait and see if Marguerite doesn't have you in a tux, too. Challenger said that he would be in the same boat, but his formal evening wear wasn't in the balloon when we came up here on short notice. But Finn is making him wear that tweed coat. It's the best that he can manage. He said that one reason why he wants to get home is so that he can wear a tux for her and thrill her. She's jealous that the other girls can get us dressed up sometimes. He wants so much to please her. I never thought that I'd see the day when a woman could interest him as much as a microscope slide, but she has."

"So, what are you giving Veronica?"

"That's what I want to discuss. Any ideas? Marguerite is supposed to be getting her some native jewelry for me today if she doesn't forget, but I wish I could think of something better. "

"No ideas on the actual gift," Roxton admitted, "but there is something that Veronica suggested that I think all the ladies would love." He told Malone, who looked askance at him. "If we do this, it may catch on. Dare we risk that?"

"Life in the jungle is fraught with perils, old boy. I'll risk it, at least, this once. Are you with us? If all the men do it, none of us will feel as self conscious."

"Okay, I'm with you. But they'd better appreciate it. If Veronica laughs at me..." He blushed.

"No, no, Ned, Have more faith. I think they'll quite like it. I'm more likely to get a sarcastic comment from Marguerite than you or George will, from your own women. And I'm going to do it."

Malone laughed, too. "In George's case, she may send him back where he was and rush to do that for him. That guy is so spoiled..."

"Well," said Roxton. "We three men have all committed then. We'll meet tonight and finalize plans. But I agree: if the girls don't handle this well, I'm never making a fool of myself this way again."

"You've got that right, Buddy," said Malone, and the men shook hands.

XXX

Two days passed, and Valentine's Day was at hand. The girls had made decorations and laid them out ready on Feb. 13, to hang the next day.

That night, Feb. 13, the couples talked at dinner of their plans and how much they all hoped that the party would be a success.

Ned teased Veronica and Marguerite: "If Roxton and I both have to wear dinner jackets and black trousers, how will you girls tell us apart? Marguerite, if you mistake me for John and kiss me, should I tell you, or just stand there and enjoy it?"

Everyone groaned at this awful attempt at humor. Finn said, "We chicks know what our men look like and smell like. If you want to play that game, let's let you guys blindfold us girls and see if we can sniff each of you and kiss the right man."

"That'd be me," Ned persisted. "I'm the 'right man' ".

"Ned, drop this while you're ahead," commanded Veronica. "Or, at least, not too far behind."

Everyone chuckled, and they began to discuss when to have the party. They decided on late afternoon, before supper. Everyone agreed that they could all have coffee and cake without ruining their appetites for the evening meal. "Punch, too, "said Roxton, "I truly like that citrus punch you make with George's rum, Veronica. Or, just make a citrus punch without the rum, if the Zanga girls prefer. Put more oranges in it then, and less lemon, I guess. Or, make limeade."

The Zanga had sent word that Sa'eera and Assai could attend, but that Jarl wanted to hunt that day, and thought the party sounded silly. He declined to attend. But Assai said later, privately, that he was afraid of the elevator and the height of the Treehouse. That was as much his reason for refusing as his wish to hunt. He had the stubborn male Indian's pride, though, so would not tell this to anyone. Assai had just detected it from other things that he had said.

That night, each couple talked briefly in their rooms about the forthcoming day. Finn was proud that she and George could do this while they made love, carrying on a conversation as they moaned and panted as well as talked. At one point, Challenger found himself addressing her back and butt as they did this, and he joked that he should turn her over and let her stretch out and let him talk to her face. She giggled and changed to the missionary position, but swung up her legs around his waist before resuming talking. She liked holding on to him. It made her feel closer, as if she was fully his.

"I could hear you, fine, Genius, and we both like doing this doggy style. We didn't have to change."

"Nonetheless, Finn, I wanted to see your face, to look into your eyes."

She was uneasy. "Why? What'd I do wrong? You usually like doing me that way."

He chuckled softly. "Darling, you did nothing wrong. If anything, you were better than usual, and a source of deep dish delight. I just like looking at you, kissing your lips, reveling in being with you and telling you how very much I adore you."

She was embarrassed, but very touched. She reached up and kissed him. "George, you are so sweet. Are you saying that because tomorrow is Valentine's Day?"

"In part," he admitted. "But I try to remember to say it often, anyway, do I not?" He leaned closer and kissed each of her eyes and her forehead, then her parted lips.

"Ummm," she admitted, "but it's special at V-Day."

XXX

The Roxtons slept early, but Marguerite thanked John first for agreeing to wear his tux. "Don't let Ned fool you," she joked. "I can tell you from him, no matter what he wears."

"Thank God for major favors, "he said with pretended relief. "But that bit of Finn's about blindfolding you girls and seeing if you could find your own men by smell. Is that possible?"

She looked at him with fond amusement. "Certainly, Lord Roxton. Why do you think I wear your shirts around when we're going to be alone in the Treehouse that day? Some of that is that I love your scent on the shirt. Yes, really; don't look at me doubtfully like that. Women have very sensitive noses. "

"So, if I nuzzle your nose now with mine, I need to be careful with it, eh?"

She smiled back. "Go for it, as our blonde friend from the future says. Live dangerously."

This led to other things, and after they were spent, the Roxtons turned out the light and snuggled closely as they slept.

The Malones had similar experiences, with personal variations. Then, they, too, slept, after Ned stopped making Veronica laugh with his jokes, some told as they squirmed in the throes of passion. "Ned Malone, I swear, you are awful! " laughed Veronica. "You get me all worked up, then tell some joke just as I'm gasping for air." But she cuddled happily with him and told him soon how much he meant to her. They were then the final couple to sleep, Veronica first.

Overhead, owls prowled, seeking small animals that would provide a meal. Ned heard them call, and lay awake briefly, thinking how much he had come to accept this raw, savage , untamed world and the wild woman whom he had found and wooed in it. Then he, too, slept.

XXX

Dawn had come, but not yet the heat and glare of the tropical day. But the Treehouse was lighted by the sun and the three men were up and around.

"Are we going through with this? " queried Challenger.

"Yes, I think we should, "Roxton replied. "No worries, George; Ned and I will do most of the work."

"We shall have to be quick about it," Challenger replied. "I told Finn that I wanted to get a drink, and for her to stay abed. If she wakes up enough to think, she will realize that I have been gone for some time, and will come looking for me."

"I'm pretty good at this, guys. I'll do most of it, and we'll all be back upstairs and in our rooms before the girls catch on." Malone was confident of his skills in this arena.

Soon, the men were back on the floor with their rooms, each slipping in to surprise his woman with the fruits of their labor.

"Wake up, Finn," said Challenger boldly, as he set down a tray on the bedside table from which he had already removed his revolver and a candle.

She gazed at him, half conscious. "Are you dressed already, Genius? What's wrong? Did I miss hearing the alarm? The birds and monkeys aren't as loud yet as they should be for us to get up." She yawned.

"Breakfast, Darling," he said cheerfully.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Give me a minute. I'm not awake yet. You sure got up early. You didn't even want to fool around? What's so important? All you're working on is the new juice squeezer."

He chuckled. "Finn, I think you may have misunderstood. Breakfast is already here. You don't have to go make it."

"Already here?" she mumbled. "What's that mean? You want to shoot some bird from the window?"

"No," he said, amused. "But sit up and look at this tray, which I have mercifully not spilled on the way up from the kitchen."

She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up, the sheet falling to her waist, revealing her breasts. She wore nothing, sleeping that way much of the time.

"What's this?" she managed. "Did Vee go to the kitchen early? Why? I thought she said last night that she was going to get up late. It's Valentine's Day, and she wanted to sleep in."

"Valentines Day, it is, and I have, with some assistance from Ned and John, made your breakfast. Mine, too, of course." He took the lid off of the serving tray with a flourish and motioned to scrambled eggs, tapir bacon, and toast. Cups of coffee and two glasses of water completed the repast.

Finn stared, gradually registering his words. . "You made this? For us?"

"I did, mainly for you. Happy Valentine's Day, Darling. The other men have also made breakfast for their ladies. We thought that you girls might appreciate this little gesture on our part. It should be adequate; if not all that it might be if you and Veronica had made it."

Finn's face split in a wide grin as she accepted that she was actually being served breakfast in bed.

"This's too cool, Genius! I thought that you said that you wouldn't cook for me. That it was beneath your male dignity." She whooped and sat up, helping to set the tray within reach.

"Um, normally, it would be," he mumbled. "But this is a special day, and I wanted to show you how much I care for you. I trust that this will all be edible. Ned says that it looks normal."

She beckoned him to lean over, and kissed him. "Thanks so much, Muscles. I LOVE this!" She squealed, and then reached for a fork.

Similar scenes played out in the other two bedrooms. The more interesting was in the Roxtons' room, so let us peek briefly into their world that morning:

John crept in and set the tray down on a table near their bed.

Marguerite heard, and mumbled, "John, is that you, or do I have to rise and shoot someone?"

"It's either me or a raptor," he answered drolly. "You'll have to sit up to see which."

"Why bother? All men are basically reptiles, anyway; what's the difference? "she rejoined. But she half smiled.

"The difference is that a raptor comes to eat you. I've brought YOU something to eat."

"An apple?" she managed. "Come back to bed, Roxton, it's nowhere near a decent hour for me to be up."

"It's Valentine's Day," he pointed out. "You had better rise and glow, if not shine, Marguerite. It won't be every day that I bring you breakfast in bed."

She was puzzled. "Is Veronica cooking already? What time is it? I've barely closed my eyes."

"You've slept for eight hours," he pointed out, "and we have to talk, and plan our day. I suggest a picnic later, during which I have a present for you."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Gad, John!" She saw the tray as he unloaded it onto the nightstand. "You were serious! To what do I owe this presumably singular honor?" She swung her bare legs off onto the floor and reached first for coffee.

"It is Valentine's Day, as I believe that I just mentioned. We men decided to bring all of you ladies breakfast in bed."

She stared at him, and then decided that she was really seeing this. She looked into his eyes, and her own green orbs twinkled. "Whose idea was this? Ned's?"

"Actually, mine," he modestly admitted. "But the other men agreed that it would be a nice gesture, and went along with it. I didn't want to be the only man doing this, or I might feel a mite self conscious about it."

She smiled. "But, in extremis, you would have done this for me?"

"Yes," he said, simply and seriously. "You deserve it, Marguerite. I love you and want to say so. This is how I began the day and I will try to make it get better as time goes by. "He sat beside her and passed her a plate.

She held his hand for a moment, but that brief instant let her express her feeling as she grasped his hand and told him that she appreciated this beyond what words could express. "You do seem to have fallen for me," she smiled.

"I do this for all the women to whom I have proposed marriage," he explained.

She arched an eyebrow. "And this is how many, at last count?"

"Just one, but she's quite special. Want this toast buttered?"

Marguerite Krux laughed. "It seems that I'm loved as much as George Challenger! What a wonderful feeling!" It was a standing joke in the Treehouse that Finn spoiled her man, and one way in which she did this was to butter his bread much of the time.

The Malones had a similar session, during which an astonished Veronica hugged Ned fiercely and told him that she would have married him long ago, had she known that he would do things like this. Her face made him decide to do it again before too long. But not too often. It wouldn't do to have the other men teasing him...

XXX

The couples all eventually got their women out of bed and cleaned up and downstairs, where they shared the duties of hanging the decorations. Some did that; others dusted and baked.

After several hours, someone broached the subject of lunch, and Roxton announced that he was taking Marguerite on a picnic. He and Veronica and his love had been packing a basket.

"We should do that, too, Genius," remarked Finn.

"I don't know about that, Finn," teased Veronica. "I've never heard of anyone having a picnic in a laboratory." She giggled at the look on Challenger's face.

Finn went to hold the scientist's arm. "Come on, Vee," she said. "George and I don't spend all of our time in that lab. Besides, we almost have a new juice squeezer ready. He just needs to get the handle leverage right so that it's easier for me to use. We figure the average housewife will have about my size hand and strength, so I'm the test case. You'll like it when it's ready."

"I'll help you pack a lunch," Veronica offered. "I saw by the look on George's face that I need to atone in some way for my little jab." But she smiled as she led the way to the kitchen.

"What about you and Ned, Vee?" Finn wanted to know. "Are you guys picnicking, too?"

"Not really," answered Malone. "We're just eating on the veranda. But how long are you two going to be gone? Veronica and I could use some quality time alone here in the Treehouse."

"Ned!" exclaimed his woman. "That was supposed to be confidential!"

Challenger smirked, amused that the shoe was now on the other foot. Finn saw, and nudged him with her elbow. They looked at one another and both grinned broadly.

"We'll be gone until almost time for the party, Ned," Finn said. "I'll think of something to keep Muscles here occupied until then."

The Roxtons looked at one another and shook their heads in wonder and suppressed mirth.

Then, the two couples who were picnicking donned their boots and armed themselves and set out for a tributary of the nearby river. This tributary stream was smaller, and quieter, but had some nice sites where pools spread out over limestone beds and where ferns and trees shaded the clearings that they had in mind.

They chose places some 200 yards apart, enough to ensure privacy, but close enough to come to one another's aid if trouble threatened.

Marguerite and John found a little glade where they could recline in shaded seclusion. Even pterodactyls passing overhead would not see them through the foliage, and there was nothing there to attract predators on the ground, either.

They set out lunch and Roxton poured wine into two glasses of genuine Baccarat crystal, from Marguerite's horde, selected at Harrod's several years before. She had spared no expense, spending Shanghai Xhan's funds. She watched the golden trickle of white burgundy from a celebrated vineyard of the Cote de Beaune pour into the glass before he handed it to her, then he set the bottle back in the ice bucket and they toasted their time alone together, and their love.

Roxton leaned back beside his mate and looked into her eyes. "Marguerite, I have a small bone to pick with you, and this is the ideal day for it."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "I thought that we were getting along famously, other than that scene I made when I thought that you and Finn had partaken of one another's charms when she was really just saving my lost necklace from a river bottom. (See, "A Ripped Garment".) But I've apologized profusely for that. So, give, John: what have I done wrong?"

"You confessed to me that you had once been a jewel thief," he pointed out, "but you swore to me that you had given up theft, that you could be counted on to be a virtuous and honest woman, worthy of marrying me. Did you not?"

She looked at him through narrowed eyes, alert, careful, now. What was this really about? Would her past never be left behind, allowing her a bright, secure future?!

"Lord Roxton," she pointed out, "we have been stranded on this godforsaken plateau for the past four years. All that I have stolen is some treasure from the Tecamaya, and you also took a share of that, as we all did. Considering what they put us through, I feel entitled. Is that what's bothering you?"

"No. You stole something else, of singular value, very precious to me, something that I have kept with care for all of my life until now. But if you want it so much, I am inclined to let you keep it."

"What, pray, have I ever stolen from you?" she demanded.

"My heart," he said simply and sincerely.

She sat still for a moment as this sank it. Then, she set her glass down on a large flat stone by her side and came into his arms. "Oh, John! That is the only thing that I have wanted to steal since meeting you, and it is the most valuable object that I have ever purloined! When you told me that you would have me, tainted as I was by slavery to an Arab sultan and from being a thief and otherwise rather 'rum' woman, I felt as if I had gone to Heaven, or at least been set on a celestial pedestal like that silly one that George has for Finn in their room. If I have stolen your heart, you have taken, even conquered, mine in return. Don't worry: I will take excellent care of that heart that I stole. It is the most priceless item that I have ever held in my possession, and I will treasure it as it deserves. I think you'd better kiss me now; I'm going to cry. If your shirt gets wet, you have it coming for what you just said. "And she offered her lips to him, sliding over to press up against his side.

Various other activities soon followed between them, but in respect for their privacy, we will draw the curtain, except to note that any moaning that came from Marguerite that afternoon was not from discomfort or pain, quite the contrary! Thus, it was some time before they got around to eating lunch...

XXX

Downstream some 200 yards, George and Finn were less physical in their picnic, if they did lie beside one another much of the time, sitting up to feed each other bites of ocellated turkey, dill pickle, and Veronica's homemade potato salad.

They talked quietly, and although a few kisses were exchanged, they mostly spent their time in speech, planning the home that they would someday purchase if they ever became free of the Plateau. Children were also contemplated, but in the main, their hands brushed one another's or were held affectionately, but no clothes came off and they had no need to pant in the heat as did the Roxtons. Their love was expressed tenderly on this occasion, rather than enthusiastically through raw passion. But both couples had bonded even more with their mates by the time that they met one another and began their homeward trek, eager to arrive before their Zanga guests.

Marguerite and Finn showed one another the jewelry that their men had given them after lunch and both women's' eyes sparkled quite as much as did the rare and valuable gemstones or the golden surfaces of the gifts. Challenger thought that he knew within close parameters the value of the bracelet and earrings that he had given Finn. Then, he saw her eyes as she looked at the bracelet, showing it to Marguerite and then glancing at him before casting her eyes shyly down. No, he thought. I was wrong. That jewelry is actually worth far more to her than what I'd have had to pay for it in London. To her, and to us, it is priceless. I feel honored to be able to give that young woman something that has made her so happy. and I know that what thrills her most is not the physical cost of the items, but that she treasures them as a token of our love. There is nothing on this Earth more valuable than that. I think that Finn had better count on being placed atop her pedestal tonight while I tell her just how much she means to me. As if I could find the words to adequately express that…

Back at the Treehouse, they found Assai and Sa'eera already in attendance. They were helping the Malones to hang a few final decorations and set up the Victrola and select the music. Some was for dancing; other selections were softer, played as they snacked and talked.

The new arrivals put away their picnic equipment and set their guns aside, freshening up in the kitchen or in their rooms.

Challenger ran to the lab and brought up the experimental fruit juicer and they employed it to make juice for a punch, one version spiked by white rum. He was explaining the implement to Veronica when Finn took him in tow and led him to their room.

She insisted that he wear a fresh pair of ironed khaki trousers and don his good tweed coat. "Look at the bright side, Genius," she teased. "The other men have to wear tuxes...with ties!" She snickered, knowing how they had wanted to attend the festivities dressed more casually, but Marguerite and Veronica had made their wishes clear...

The Challengers came downstairs hand -in- hand, Finn in a coral slip dress that was a favorite, although she knew that George was slightly embarrassed by its length, or lack thereof. The neckline was also dangerously low, exposing the base of her breasts, which bounced perkily if she moved briskly, especially in dance. The hem reached mid-thigh, and Finn enjoyed sneaking peeks at all the men and seeing that they were eying her when she wore it. It made her feel desirable and fashionable, although she knew that she would be unable to wear it once they left the Plateau. She knew very vaguely of the Flapper Girl styles that they would encounter, but the futuristic cocktail dress would not be suitable for wear in public for many years to come, and then mainly at parties where the women competed to showcase their assets as much as was likely in any society that she could envision.

In the main room, the other men were dressed in white dinner jackets and black trousers, with bow ties. Veronica was in white, her dress nearly as short as Finn's, but tailored more demurely at the neckline and shoulder straps. Finn decided that Veronica was wearing a bra. She wasn't, herself, because her own dress wasn't meant for it, and because the slim straps simply wouldn't hide the bra straps.

Marguerite was a show stealer, as ever. She had just made a new dress with a knee-length skirt, in deep rose. She wore her new jewelry, as did Finn, with the latter having added an elegant gold necklace with a dangling emerald, a gift from Marguerite for having found a lost necklace of her own a month or so previously. As always when she dressed up, Finn wore a slim gold ankle bracelet on her right foot.

The surprising thing is that both of the Zanga girls had changed into dresses made for them by their white friends. They had wanted to see how it felt to wear these clothes, and on their last visit, had been measured by Marguerite. Veronica had made some last moment adjustments and finished the dresses and lingerie on her missing mother's sewing machine as the others picnicked.

Sa'eera was in deep green, which went well with her dyed blonde tresses. Not surprisingly, perhaps, her dress was styled much like Finn's, for the two were good friends, with Sa'eera somewhat idolizing Finn, who was a few years older and had done daring deeds, something not allowed to good Zanga maidens. Assai wore a simple black slip dress with straps as slim as those on Finn's short gown. It was also about that length, this causing the Zanga lass no embarrassment, for she customarily wore little more, as was normal for women of her people. Being half white, Sa'eera simply looked like a European woman with a fair tan. She wore a golden arm bracelet that set off the dress well, and was ravishing. The Zanga women swore to one another not to tell their men about wearing the Treehouse clothes, lest the conservative Jacoba and Jarl rant at them for departing from tribal ways. But while here, they meant to experience what the Treehouse women did on such occasions. Veronica had promised to store their dresses and lingerie for their visits, and this gave the Zanga women the thrill of wearing sensuous garments while doing something forbidden by their tribe.

Ned presided at the punchbowl, passing out glasses of the refreshment, which set a festive mood. The Zanga girls weren't used to alcoholic beverages, and Marguerite cautioned them to be careful how much they drank.

This was well, for Sa'eera soon wanted to dance, and she pulled Roxton onto the floor and made him show her what to do. She had been taught by Finn to do some rock and roll moves, and she soon stunned them all with her talent. She had clearly been practicing in the privacy of her hut in the royal kraal. Finn wondered how she would fare had she heard the sort of music that should have accompanied this form of dance. She had hummed and sung some of the songs for Sa'eera to hear, and ran music in her head as she herself danced in that style.

When Marguerite noticed that Sa'eera had used one hand to pull up the hem of her skirt to free her legs for easy movement, she walked over and appropriated Roxton for her own again. Veronica, amused, told Ned Malone to go dance with the young Zanga queen. She herself set out plates and put a cake on the table. Finn helped her best friend to lay out other plates with oranges, guavas and melons.

Challenger took Finn in his arms, and whirled her around the dance floor, and she was again impressed with his ability, something that she hadn't expected of the scientific prodigy when they had first danced with one another soon before they had become a couple. She had gradually learned that George Challenger had all sorts of hidden talents.

Veronica and Ned went around the floor a few times, then all assembled at the table and sat for coffee and cake.

The girls showed their guests the jewelry they had gotten, Malone having bought some in the Zanga village to give to Veronica. He had also made her a set of earrings from aged dinosaur bone, which resembled amber. She had been delighted with them, in part because he had shown such originality and creativity. She suspected that Marguerite had put the finishing touches on them, and later learned that this was correct.

The Zanga girls were given similar items, and gold bracelets. In turn they had given totem symbols of carved jade to their hosts. Marguerite was appalled and amused by the grotesque Zanga gods carved on them, but decided to hold her tongue and mention this after their departure.

The cake was a white pound sort, with pink icing, suitable for a romantic day, and Veronica had dribbled darker red icing on it to form a heart. It was explained to the visitors what this symbolized on this day, and they found that odd, but pleasant.

They continued to party, telling one another tales of all that had passed since they had last seen one another. The Zangas had good gossip from the royal enclosure, and told Roxton that another man-eating jaguar had appeared, but that Jarl and his friends thought they could kill it without the help of the whites in the Treehouse. (See, "A Night in the Lost World" to read about an earlier man-eater.)

"I'll take my .318 Westley Richards or my .416 Rigby over a spear any day, when hunting jaguars," declared Roxton. "Those cats sometimes exceed 400 pounds, and they are utterly savage when cornered." He and Marguerite had killed the last such man-eater to plague the Zanga, but it had not been without cost, two warriors having suffered the consequences of getting too close to the animal. The British couple had both been in grave peril from the cat called Spirit Jaguar by the Zanga tribe, and were glad that they had emerged alive and safe, and closer to one another than ever before.

"I killed it, actually," contested Marguerite, "and I needed only my .275 Rigby". She smirked. It was true that she had shot the black cat with her lighter rifle, but so had Roxton. Still, it was fun to tease him. She glanced at the hide, now mounted on a nearby wall, the head still attached, mouth open, teeth gleaming in the light. It had been mounted by Challenger, who had found taxidermy instructions in a book that had belonged to Veronica's father. As a scientist, he had also known about mounting specimens. The carcass had been consumed by ants and vultures, so that Zanga chief shaman Xma'Klee could prove to his people that it had not been enchanted, as many had believed. Marguerite shuddered briefly as she recalled the fury with which the demon cat had confronted them.

Finn, ever the eager huntress, said, "Johnny, if that jaguar comes here, want to hunt it with me? I bet we can kill it before Jarl can, if it comes this far."

"Suits," Roxton acknowledged, and they shook hands on that deal. Marguerite debated whether to join them, and decided to offer her help, too. She basically trusted the other two alone together, but she wanted to be a part of this. It was something that John loved which they could share, although she often left routine hunting to John and Finn. Cleaning a dead animal and readying it for meat was, as she wryly noted, one of the "ickier" experiences in life. But this should be stimulating, and she liked the shiver that ran down her back on such occasions. I'm somewhat a junkie for adventure, I suppose, she conceded mentally.

She was startled from this reverie by Veronica jostling her elbow and whispering, "Look at Sa'eera! No more rum for her tonight! Let's lead her over here for some cake and coffee! Right now! AFTER she puts that dress back on!"

And indeed, the young blonde Zanga queen had taken off her dress and was twirling it as she danced to Arabic music that she had put on the Victrola. She wore only sandals and white thong (tanga) panties with lace trim that Veronica had made for her. Ned was staring transfixed, and Veronica made a mental note to discuss this with him when they were alone later that night. In fact, all of the men were now gawking, and were actually smiling. Clearly, rum did not go well with some young women, from a female standpoint, at least, when it caused such a scene as this.

"Oh, let her just put the dress back on and dance a little. I'll join her," said Finn, and she led her Zanga friend aside and whispered to her and helped her to don her dress again. Then, the two women danced in a way that left the men transfixed. Marguerite tolerated this for a few minutes, and then she marched to the record machine and put on a waltz, and motioned to Roxton to join her. The Challengers followed, as did the Malones, the men then taking turns dancing with Assai, who was learning the steps. She already knew Arabic dance, taught by Marguerite some months previously. That was one aspect of Treehouse knowledge that Jarl allowed...and enjoyed watching, as his wife demonstrated her newfound skill. (Unlike Jacoba, he not sent Marguerite any jewels for her help.)

Coffee helped to sober Sa'eera, who was embarrassed when she realized her social gaffe. But she and Finn were soon engaged in a lively discussion, and the issue was forgotten for the moment.

In time, dinner was served, and they ate by candlelight. The Zanga girls were impressed again with Veronica's culinary skills, and all ate their fill, although Marguerite and Finn were grateful for their good metabolism, which enabled them to eat well within reason and yet maintain their trim figures with minimal exercise. Veronica ate more conservatively, knowing that she had a tendency to gain weight if she was reckless at the table. But she exercised so much just living in this jungle that good living had seldom shown on her form. She watched Ned's diet somewhat, for he, too, had a tendency to gain a little weight, more than did the other men. But on Christmas, and now Valentine's Day and a few other holidays that they celebrated, eating well wasn't that much of an issue. She might join this jaguar hunt, and burn off any extra calories...

In time, they danced more, with Sa'eera and Assai carefully drinking only the non-spiked fruit punch and coffee.

Finally, they all chipped in to clean up and the Zanga girls went to bed after a final coffee, during the drinking of which Roxton had regaled the group with tales of the African frontier. He told of W.D.M. "Karamojo" Bell, who slew large numbers of elephant with light rifles, making his fortune in ivory, and of John Boyes, who had gone alone among the Kikuyu and established trade with that fierce tribe, and of Dr. John Williamson, who had trod a diamond into the red earth, fearful that if his African "boys" knew what he had found, they would murder him for the gems that he would later mine. And, of course, Roxton had to tell some of his own adventures in the bush. All were enchanted, Finn especially, hanging on his every word.

She turned to her mate and said, "Genius, someday we have to go to Africa." He nodded, wanting to venture there himself, if mainly to collect plant and animal specimens for the private museum that he envisioned building behind the home that they would have in Britain. I wonder how becoming an Englishwoman will affect my adventurous blonde Anglo-Brazilian love? he mused, and decided that she would love it, as long as she could travel to foreign lands, and shoot pheasant and deer on their estate. Finn was often content to just browse in the jungle, using her Zeiss 8X30 binocular to study the wealth of birds and animals that they saw. It was one of the first items that she had appropriated from the loot taken from the slavers who had held her and Marguerite, and she treasured it, often using it or his own more powerful 10X50 Zeiss glass to gaze out over the jungle from the Treehouse veranda, safe from the fauna below.

Finally, the Zanga girls retired to the guest room that they shared, and the couples gradually finished socializing and drifted off to their rooms, putting out the lights as they went.

XXX

Finn and Challenger lay in one another's arms, having just completed an hour of lovemaking. They were a bit winded, and held onto one another both physically and emotionally.

"George, thanks again, so much, for the jewelry," spoke Finn. "I'm sorry that fucking is the only way that I can think of to say thanks, but I guess that's what men really want when they give girls things. Right?"

Challenger spanked her once playfully on the bottom. "Naughty girl! Well, you are technically right, most of the time. But we also give women valuable items to express our love as well as to hopefully get them to gratify our lust. Surely, you don't think that this is all I want from our relationship?" He lifted a quizzical eyebrow.

She snuggled closer. "Nope, Genius. I know that you love me. And it's the warmest feeling in the world. But screwing you is the only way that I could say thanks, and I hope that I did it well."

"It is wonderful, I admit," Challenger replied. "But you earned that jewelry not just by excellence in bed. Your everyday ministrations mean the world to me. When the others tease you for nurturing me, I revel in your doing it. I feel cared for, literally and emotionally. You have made an enormous difference in my life, Darling." He reached for her and ran his hand over her hair and around her neck and jaw. She loved this and purred, clowning.

They talked more and finally shut off the lights, Finn taking a last look at the wooden pedestal on which she had been placed earlier, to show how highly she stood in her man's esteem. She flushed slightly, and cuddled with him as the lights faded.

Next door, the Roxtons reflected on that day

XXX

Roxton had gone downstairs to ensure that the elevator was properly secured for the night, and when he returned to their room, found that Marguerite had stripped quickly and was wearing a white nightgown, almost ankle length. It was different from the shorter slips in which she usually slept, and he deduced that she probably felt that it was more elegant or timeless in style, and had selected it for this romantic occasion for that reason.

He had stopped off in the library for a book that he remembered, and wanted to read to her that night. Not that Marguerite wasn't fully literate, as was even Finn by this time, but it was the sort of book that a man might read aloud to his love, no matter how accomplished she was in reading for herself.

She turned at the sound of his shoes on the floor, and looked to see his reaction, although pretending indifference.

Roxton detected this, for men are often more astute than their women realize. He smiled inwardly, and reflected that Marguerite hid her vanity well, unlike Finn, who could be seen to look for men's' reactions to her, and who basked in male attention.

"Nice gown," he allowed, trying to seem indifferent, himself.

"Like it, do you?" she purred. "I wore it for you. I think it presents me nicely. I wanted to look good for you."

"Marguerite, you always look good to me. The problem is not that the gown isn't lovely, and I concede that it is. You actually look ravishing. The problem is that I think you are even more stunning when wearing the same outfit in which you presumably arrived into the world. You are precisely the image that men have always envisioned when they think of how the classical nude should appear. Your body is the sort to inspire the sculptor, the painter. It is the sort of appearance that female angels must have. When I see you in the buff, I stare in awe, aware that I am in the presence of the ultimate woman, whose charms make my heart beat wildly, and who stuns my senses. Circe never wielded more control over the beasts than your nude form does over me."

Marguerite was amused. "Circe, indeed!" she exclaimed. "John, I know you, and you are just trying to get me out of this gown, which I worked very hard to design and to sew. Do you like it, really?"

"I love it," he said soberly. "But Marguerite, I swear to you on my honor as an officer and a gentleman that seeing you nude is all that I expressed it as being. I don't make that stuff up just to flatter you. In your arms, I feel that I have come into the embrace of a goddess."

"So, I have to take this off?" She lifted the hem and drew the gown up and over her shoulders, carefully clearing her hair, that it not be mussed from the brushing that she had just given it.

She dropped the gown onto a chair and stood with her arms at her side, then turned her palms openly toward Roxton before putting her hands behind her. Her weight was on her left leg, the right being bent at the knee. Roxton stood staring, realizing after a moment that his mouth was open. He closed it, swallowing a little loudly, he feared.

"I am impressed, Marguerite, "he admitted. "Look: I brought up a bottle of champagne from the cellar. We need to use it up before it gets too old, and this seems a suitable occasion."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "All I have to do to get a glass or two of 'champers' is to take off my clothes?" But she was pleased to see the ice bucket in his hand. In the other hand, she noticed the book.

"What have you brought from the library?" she inquired. "Something with plenty of pictures, I trust? I'd hate for you to become bored with your reading."

She smiled wickedly, and Roxton thought his heart would melt as he stared openly at her. He was no stranger to the sight of nude women, among whom he had once cut a wide swath through Britain, but Marguerite had a certain magnetism that he found irresistible.

"It's actually a book of love poems by Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning," he admitted. "I thought that I might read a few to you as you lie in bed and sip champagne. There are some strawberries in this bucket, too."

"Oh, strawberries and champagne, and Browning, too! Lord Roxton, you must indeed want to get me on my back tonight! Or, kneeling with you behind, knowing you, you rake!" But her eyes twinkled and Roxton felt a shiver pass through him and he hoped that his erection didn't show through his trousers. Marguerite would become conceited if she knew how easily she moved him to lust...

"Let's see if it works, shall we? Lie on the bed and I'll sit by you and read a few of these sonnets, and play with your hair and ears and we'll see where it may lead, on this particular Valentine's Day night."

She blushed in spite of herself, and hugged him before lying on her side, watching him as he sat beside her, and caressed her body. He opened the bottle and produced two flute glasses and the berries, in a crystal bowl. He set the berries on the nightstand, where they could reach them, and handed her a glass that he had filled with Moet & Chandon's best "bubbly".

Marguerite ate a berry from his fingers, and then sat up so that she could better manage the glass and reach for the berries when she wished. She sat cross- legged, covering nothing, and Roxton was again impressed at the grace and earthiness of her body and of her personality. He saw that she had shaved between her legs, and remembered that she had told him that this had once been required of her by her master, when she had entertained a sultan in far Araby. (See, "A Prisoner of the Sultan, or How Marguerite Learned to Dance".) He thrilled to the sight of her bare mons veneris, and tried to suppress the flush that he knew was rising in his face.

He thumbed through the book, reading a few choice poems as he found favorites, for he had used this technique before, enchanting lovers in London and in Paris. But it was as if they had never existed, so great was the impact of Marguerite Krux on him.

And she loved what he did, pausing to feed him a strawberry at the end of a sonnet. "That was beautiful, John," she said, blushing. "Do you really think of me in such lofty terms?"

"Do you recall when George and Finn used to argue about which of them the sun and the moon rose on?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, muffling a laugh. "They finally decided in Xochilenque that they were celestially blessed as a couple, and that the radiance of those heavenly bodies shine on them as such. George was quite flowery when he declared that, and poor Finn's eyes shined so much when he said it that I was deeply touched. It was just what she needed to hear, after all that she has been through in her short life. They are so much in love...But what of them?"

"The heavenly bodies bless their union no more than our own," he declared. "I love you, Marguerite." And he leaned over and kissed her lips, toying with a lock of her sable hair. She blushed and held his hand, setting her champagne on the nightstand.

He held her close by him, reading more of the poems, selecting those that he felt most reminded him of them. She stretched out, lying by him, and he ran his hand along her back and let his fingers trail across her buttocks in a way that made her skin tingle as she reacted to his touch.

XXX

The Malones got off to a rockier start when they reached their room.

As they went in, Veronica shut the door and stood in front of Ned, her arms folded. She had an unpleasant look on her face, and Ned feared that those dreaded words, "We have to talk" would emerge from her lips at any moment. Most married men have heard that phrase, and it generally bodes them ill.

"Ned," she demanded, "would you mind telling me what Sa'eera has that I don't, that compelled you to stare at her so intently when she saw fit to get drunk and strip and dance like a whore in a sailors' bar?"

Malone stammered, but protested that he had had no idea that the young Zanga queen would do that. "I just looked because I was surprised, I guess," he managed. "Of course, she is pretty cute, and she moves so well that I couldn't help looking. All the men did. But that has nothing to do with you or with us. If I had had the choice of looking at you instead of her, I'd have looked at you."

"So you think I should take off my dress and gyrate like a slut in heat, to entertain you and our friends? I don't think so, Mr. Malone. I doubt that you would approve of me doing that, even if I wanted to. Those dances that we girls do here sometimes are about my limit in public, and I've seen you sneaking glances at Finn and at Marguerite then, too. Not that Marguerite has Finn's exhibitionist tendency, but she is pretty proud of her body and what she can do in those dances. What is it with you, Ned? Can't you be satisfied with one woman? Do I not do all that I can to please you, in and out of bed? Just what more do you want of me?" She had her hands on her hips now, and Ned decided that she was getting angrier.

"Uh, Honey, I don't really stare at the other girls, I just look like John and George do, and mainly, I look at you. Think: do I not give you the bulk of my attention? All guys are going to look if the goods are on display. It's like going to an art museum, where you look at their displays, but prize most the paintings that you have at home. After all, you chose those, and they're the best for you. Well, you're my choice in a woman, and if my looking at Sa'eera makes you jealous, we'll deal with it. But there is no way at all that I prefer Sa'eera to you. Even if I did, I wouldn't try to seduce the Zanga king's favorite wife."

He tried to say more, but she continued to berate him, sometimes shaking a fist or waving her arms.

Ned knew that she was still evolving in European ways and had a tendency to see issues in black and white, when the more sophisticated Roxtons or the Challengers knew that real life sometimes demands that one view friends in shades of gray .

He explained that he had been taken unaware and had just reacted on biological impulse. "I really had rather see you than any other woman on Earth, Baby," he offered. "I'm sorry if I gawked, but gee whiz, that gal is hot and she moves like a cat. It was all that I could do not to stare more. Of course, I was shocked. It was just the rum, and she isn't used to drinking, and she's pretty young. Forgive me if I gave you the idea that I'd prefer any other woman on Earth to you. Look, it's Valentine's Day. Lets' make up and enjoy the night."

"Well, if it's a show like that that you want, here it is!" she blurted and pulled off her dress and began to swing her hips as she had seen Sa'eera do. She moved well, and Ned stared, again taken in the moment by surprise, and physically acknowledging the appeal of a beautiful woman dancing for him, twirling her dress above her head until she tossed it onto a chair. She moved stiffly, angrily, at first, almost a parody of the action that had angered her. Then, seeing his appreciative face, her female vanity emerged, and she danced in earnest, trying to outdo what she had seen of Sa'eera's and of Finn's talents.

He told her to come to him, and took her in his arms and whispered soothing endearments in her ear, and in time, the stiffness with which she held herself in his grasp softened. He rubbed noses with her, murmuring more sweet things until she allowed him to kiss her. He began with her lips, and then applied his efforts to the sides of her neck, which he knew were especially sensitive.

"Quit that," she groaned. "How am I supposed to stay mad at you when you make me feel like this?" She moved against him and he knew that she was coming around. He just needed to apologize a little more and keep the compliments coming, and she would forgive him and admit to herself that she was overreacting. His fingers found the hooks at the back of her bra, and she allowed him to unclip it and ease it off.

He reached for a breast, rolling the nipple gently between his fingers, tugging lightly on it until she moaned and pulled him closer, kissing passionately. She wrapped a leg around his leg and ran her foot, now that the sandals that she had worn were off, against his own leg, and she closed her eyes as he caressed her hair and neck, all the while whispering to her how much he loved her. She began to warm beneath his hands and soon they stumbled to the bed, where he gradually took off his own clothes, taking care to keep his hands moving on Veronica, telling her softly how much he loved her.

"I guess I can't stay mad at you on Valentine's Day, Ned," she eventually conceded. "Just think of how I feel if everyone sees my man staring at another woman, and don't hurt me that way again, okay?

He agreed, and resumed kissing her until she raised her hips for him to slip off the white bikini briefs and probe within her moistness with a finger, then another. He leaned his head over her breasts and began nuzzling one, licking the nipple as he gently exhaled on it, and rolling the hardened nubbin between his lips, teasing it with his tongue. She looked at him with glazed eyes and reached for his manhood, and soon, the anger was all gone from her as he found and played with all of her trigger points until he mounted her, moving in unison with her pelvic thrusts, her mewing making it apparent that she had abandoned all hope of staying angry. In fact, she seemed quite pleased with him now.

XXX

Next door, the Roxtons had set aside the book of poetry, and Roxton had struggled out of his clothes, using one hand at times so that he could address Marguerite with the other. She scrambled out of bed to ease off his dress shoes, and he felt nurtured, recalling how erotic it seemed when he had seen Finn do that for Challenger at the end of a day when the scientist changed from boots into more comfortable, cooler shoes.

Now nude, Roxton set the champagne and the remaining strawberries aside, first popping a berry into his mouth. They were delicious, and he blessed Fortune for leading him to a patch of them. Soon, they would grow their own in a sandy portion of soil beyond the regular garden, but within the fence.

Marguerite stretched languidly on the bed, rolling her hips as he watched, amused at the stiffness that this gesture added to his very apparent erection.

"Turn off the light, please, John. Enjoy me in the dark. Don't you think that adds an element of romance and sensuality, rather like the strawberries and the champagne?" She raised her arms behind her head and swiveled her hips and curled on her side, watching his eyes, her head now propped on her arm, elbow bent.

"I've never been able to drink darkness like champoagne," he pointed out, "but if it pleases you, my lady, dark it shall be." He turned off the overhead light and the bedside lamp, and came into her arms.

"Do you know why I wanted us dark, apart from what I said?" she murmured into his ear, nibbling enchantingly at the lobe.

"Can't imagine. I was having a fine time looking at you, I promise."

"John, I am serious about this, so try not to laugh." She spoke in a small voice now. "The truth is, that for all the shame of my past, I am basically shy. I feel more secure when we do this with the lights off. Is that crazy, considering how much I also love seeing your face when you honor me with that awestruck gaze when I'm nude for you?" She held his hand and he knew that she was looking at him, feeling her eyes on him in the shadows.

So, she had seen the effect that she produced on him when he beheld her nakedness! So be it: let her know his worship of her form and her face. He loved her, and maybe it was best if she knew just how much. Perhaps she, of all women, needed that, to free her of her insecurities, letting her know that his love was true and all encompassing, that he longed for her as a man in the desert prays for rain. For John Roxton, Marguerite was the romantic rain in his emotional desert. In her, his heart had found a home, with solace beyond belief. He wanted her to know that he loved her, without reservation.

He told her this, adding that he understood if she preferred darkness at times. "I want to enjoy having you, taking you, in all ways, in all sorts of light, from the first rays of dawn, to the amber hues of evening, to the blackest of all nights on this planet. Marguerite, I love you more than I can express, and I am an educated man, well versed in words. But I cannot find the means to tell you how much I long for the sight of you as I wake, how I think of you as I chop wood, or sit on a game trail, waiting for an animal to show so that I can harvest supper with my rifle. I think of you as I come and as I go from this place, and when you are not with me, I feel alone, even when Finn or Challenger is with me. It is as if I had left a portion of myself back in the Treehouse. The good-looking portion, I might add."

She chuckled and lifted her head from where she had gone with her mouth, low on his body, now looking again directly into his eyes in the shaded colors of their darkened room.

"John, thank you. I've heard it said that when men think of a woman's love, they like to see it, her, what she has to offer. Women like to hear about it. Tonight, I have 'heard it' from your lips, and it thrills me to know what is in your heart and truly believe every word that you have spoken. Do you know what that means to a woman, especially to one such as me, so sure that she would never know true love? Oh, John, take me, however you choose, and don't turn me loose until I have granted every wish that you harbor in your wildest fantasies! I am your vessel of pleasure; use me as such. I was once forced to say that to my master in Arabia. Now, I say it to you, out of love, and with no reservation. I want to be the dearest thing in your life, maybe even on par with your guns!" She laughed outright at that, and Roxton chuckled in response.

"In that case, Madam, prepare to spend considerable time being appreciated by my hands, my lips, and with whatever other portions of my anatomy I may manage to use in your satisfaction. You are going to be one very tired woman before I release you from my wicked clutches!" He pulled her to him and they merged, their forms twisting and twining in the darkness, her moans and sighs the only sounds in their room, other than the soft bumping of the mattress springs.

And so they played out the night, resting between bouts of strenuous exercise, as he rose to the occasion, she receiving him within her with a joy that she had never expected to find.

For them, Valentine's Day was a remarkable success, if they intended to repeat its pleasure many other days before its recurrence next year, when Marguerite was determined to ensure a replay of this scenario. Next year, she mused, I think I'll be Chairwoman of the Treehouse Ladies' Social Committee. Not that I see how I'll top this year's Valentine's Day celebration. But I'm going to try, if only to see if my heart can stand any more excitement than this wonderful man, this noble peer of our land, has given me tonight. Finn, eat your heart out, for I know in my own breast that it is truly me and John Roxton whose love is that of the centuries, the epitome of romance for all eternity...

When they were all but spent, hours later, she insisted that he enter her a last time, and hold her to him as they slept. When he slipped from her as slumber took him, Marguerite held him close and smelled him as she, too, let drowsiness claim her body, to refresh it, no doubt for more of the same before the couple managed to disentangle themselves from one another and make it downstairs for a tardy breakfast, their cheeks flaming from the knowledge that others would know what they had been doing to each other. But to the devil with that, she would have said, for she cared not who knew that she belonged now to Lord Roxton, and she would hold her head high if others knew how much she loved him. Becoming John's woman was the crowning achievement of her life to date, and she wanted to shout to the world that she was his, and damned proud of it!

XXX

Finn woke in the stillness of the night. She strained her sensitive ears, and could hear faint sounds from the next room that she knew were made by Marguerite and John as they reveled in one another's lust and love.

She smiled, happy for the other couple, although she knew in her heart that they would never quite reach the pinnacle of love that she shared with her own man. No one had; no one would, although the Roxtons came close, now that they had ceased all pretense of not being in love. The Malones were also deeply in love, but they seemed at times to still be struggling to define it. And the shy, independent Veronica was just now really learning to relax and enjoy being had by Ned, without self consciousness impeding their passion. Finn thought about that, and she decided that her talks with Veronica and seeing the other two Treehouse women with their men had softened her reservations. That, and dancing for the men half nude, had awakened passions within her near sister that were beginning to flower. She was coming to crave Ned's attentions, where once she had only shyly submitted to them. Finn smiled widely, pleased for her friend. Oh, poor Veronica!, she thought. If only you and Ned knew what it can mean to be completely a man's woman, and know that he cares right back!

She looked to her left, and saw in the gloom of the room that Challenger was asleep, his visage recovering from the long hours of work that he had put into his latest efforts in the lab. Our lab now, she thought with a rosy glow within her. Where George goes, I'll go, throughout his life. He's so much older than me that I'll lose him before I'm even old, and his passing will almost kill me, I'm certain. Maybe if we have children, especially a son, it will let me hold onto him after he is gone to his reward, surely being as honored in heaven as he will be here after others know his greatness.

The thought that her man must probably precede her in death made her cry, and she wiped at her eyes, reaching for a cloth at the side of their bed, used in lieu of the tissue paper that would replace its function as science brought mankind better living.

Finn swung her desirable long legs over the side of the bed and padded softly to the door, opening it and stepping out onto the balcony. She paused, and then came quietly back into the room, finding her binocular in a chair near their dresser. It was among her most prized possessions. Finn treasured it, loving the magnified view that it provided of her world, and the mechanical and technical complexity of its black leather-clad body and knowing, thanks to Challenger's drawings, the intricacy of its lenses and prisms that admitted and bent light waves to bring the enlarged view to her blue eyes, opening to her an enchanted world that seemed at times in the stillness of the jungle to be almost a psychedelic "high". Not that she had ever "dropped acid", but she had seen drawings and paintings of those who had, and had heard those still coherent after that experience speak of what they had beheld while in the throes of their drug induced Nirvana. It was not for her, but the emotional thrill that she got from studying in detail the plumage of some of the more colorful birds and the iridescence of a lounging lizard filled her with a joy that she found difficult to express.

Now, she hung the glass from her neck by its fine leather strap, careful that it not be jarred from her grasp if she had to duck to avoid a cruising bat. She looked at the lettering impressed into the top of the metal body: Carl Zeiss, Jena. Three words that meant everything in binoculars, she knew. I am so blamed lucky to own this remarkable instrument, she exulted, and swung it up to view the moon as it passed between branches of the tree that supported their home. She focused the binocular, and held still, marring her view as little as possible through being motionless. She was strong enough to be steady, holding her breath, and she beheld the ridges of lunar mountains, and the outlines of craters, their edges sharp in the eight power magnification. She shifted her gaze toward the forest, and could see the shadow of a patrolling pterodactyl, a nocturnal species that hunted much as did owls, which she could also hear.

Standing naked in the moonlight, her view enhanced by the binocular , her breast swelled with pleasure and a fullness that amazed her. I am content, she thought. I, Nicole Finnegan, orphan, survivor of unspeakable acts and places, am now in tune with the universe and with my soul, which has quite probably been saved by the Christian teaching of my friends here, and especially of my man, with whom I share the guilt of our adultery. For she had no way of knowing then that Challenger's wife was dead in London for over a year before the couple had met in New Amazonia...

She sensed and heard Challenger's bare feet as he approached. She felt his arms embrace her and his lips kiss her neck. She lowered the binocular and leaned back in his arms, her body against his bare chest, rejoicing in his presence.

"Hi, Genius," she murmured. "I was just watching the night. It's pretty spectacular, what one can see of it. Have you ever really studied the moon on a night this dark, its radiance being most of the light? Of course, you have! You've done that so often, I bet. But it's new to me, at least with the binocular. I used to stare at that moon in my century, wondering how long I'd be able to see it before someone or something killed me. I'd sob, thinking of my aloneness and my inner turmoil and my emptiness. Oh, George, hold me, I'm going to cry! If only you knew how much you mean to me, you big genius!"

She pushed the binocular to her side, allowing her to turn and press herself against him, sobbing into his chest.

He held her, talking softly to her, a hand caressing her back and bottom, telling her how much joy she had brought into his own world. In time, he leaned down and they kissed, Finn tasting his tears as he tasted the salt of her own.

"Don't cry, Darling," he said. "Everything is all right now, and I will allow no harm to touch you."

"George, I'm not crying just for what I was and left. I'm crying with joy for what I've found, which largely means you and the world that you gave me, you marvelous man, you icon among humans! Can you even guess what you mean to me, how you have lifted me up among the stars, while I'm yet on Earth? When morning comes, I want to wear that new jewelry that you gave me, and only it, while you "do" me, however you want. Please. I want to feel you in me, holding me, telling me that we'll always have one another. That would just so make my day, right there in bed, even before I make your breakfast. Does this make any sense at all?"

"Yes, but I think that Ned and Veronica are scheduled to make breakfast this morning. You can sleep late, if you like."

"They can make everyone else's breakfast. I'm making yours and I'm eating it with you. And I think I want to hold your hand some of the time. And I'm going to butter your toast, right in front of Vee and Marguerite, and if they tease me for pampering you, I am going to give them a piece of my mind. I don't give a damn who knows that I all but worship you. You deserve it. Hey. Want to know a big secret, Lover?"

He said yes, curious as to what she might have kept from him.

"Well, right before Burton and his creeps grabbed Marguerite and me, we were talking about us, meaning me and you. I told her that I had rather kneel at your feet than be a queen anywhere else. I was being figurative, but I basically meant it. She sensed that, I think, and maybe she's thought about it and it let her look at Johnny another way. I hope that we have let them see what it can mean to be really close to someone else. So close that losing you would be like me losing water or air. See how much I care? And you'd better care right back, Muscles, or you may have to learn to make your own breakfast!" She laughed.

Challenger was stunned at the enormity of her declaration, especially that she had made it to the secretive, sometimes sarcastic Marguerite. In a moment, he managed to say, "I am in no danger of having to prepare my own meals, Darling. That beautiful blonde goddess whom I sometimes place on her pedestal in this very room does that for me, and she can do it for the rest of my life if I am lucky enough to keep her love."

"You've got it, Genius. All of my love. It's getting chilly out here. " She shivered slightly. "Let me put the binocular away and you can carry me back to bed. Or, have me walk in front of you so that you can watch my butt. Whichever." She laughed softly, and Challenger felt a thrill go though him as he opened the door wider for them to pass through as a couple, holding hands.

He waited for her to put the binocular carefully back into its case, then took her hand and led her to bed. There, he kissed her and asked whether she had had a happy Valentine's Day.

"Well, you forgot to bring me flowers," she pointed out, "but that's okay, for you otherwise brought me the world."

"Today, then, let us skip laboring in the lab and go look for the finest bouquet of flowers anywhere near here, and I will pick them for you. Interested? We can have another picnic, and I want you to wear the new jewelry again. I like seeing it on you, and I love the way you look at it. And I was quite touched as you fed me bites of that turkey, of which I think we have still a good supply."

She snickered, her laughter a delight in his ears, now so much a sound typical of her. "Okay, George. But I'm packing extra pickles. I know you, you glutton." But she must not have been very angry at him for so often purloining her pickle on a picnic, for she kissed him as they reclined and eventually fell asleep in one another's' arms.

Poor Marguerite and Veronica, she thought as she closed her eyes for the night. I just wish that they could know even half of what I feel for George. They wouldn't tease me. In fact, they'd fuss over Ned and Johnny like I do over the Genius. I must be the luckiest woman to have ever lived. And she smiled enough that her lips almost glowed in the dark as she snuggled against the sleeping scientist and gave herself over to dreams, this time far more pleasant ones than those that she had had when she had first come to this new home.

She heard an owl hoot outside in her last moment of consciousness, and thought, Those things have been here almost forever. I'll go to London someday, I know that I will. And whatever happens with Jessie Challenger, I am going to have George and the best life that anyone ever did. But I want our home to have trees where owls can roost. And when I hear them, I want to think of this place, this night, and the best Valentine's Day that any girl ever had. Lucky me!

The End